Take back the world
by Samstar1990
Summary: Russia finally made his move, taking out the main targets he has the world in his hand. The british Isle closed their borders and went into isolation. Two years later their shores are invaded. But 2 years can change a nation and make them willing to fight
1. When darkness enveloped the world

**I was feeling a teeny bit depressed on Friday and this came into my head because of it...wierd huh? Anyway I mentioned the ideas to my friend or at least what I had and she began shaking me go "YOU MUST WRITE THIS!"**

** "eh?"**

**"The Awesumness must be written"**

**so here we are

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France walked out onto the port at Dover, he looked Worn and tired. It would be over soon right? Only the British Isles to go... that small, little island nation. His expression was black and controlled, he hated what he was doing, but he was under orders to capture Britain and he was compelled to obey. He motioned the troops to move forward.

France…

Like most of the World, he was part of the Russo Empire, they had all fought against the mad man as he swung his blood stained pipe, but one by one they had been pulled to the cold unforgiving snow and beaten if they offered resistance. Their Governments replaced with Russian Generals. They all lived in Russia house now, all sharing silent pain, all too terrified to raise objection.

It was a few of the smaller younger nations first, simply slipping away. Then they lost contact with China and three days later they were flying the Russian flag. Asia became to fall under his iron grip. Japan fought all he could and America, being the hero as always, joined the Samurai, gun in hand. No one really knows what happened. But it was truly heartbreaking when Russia came on TV, a quiver boy at his feet barely recognisable as the United States. Canada charged in outraged at what had happened to his brother but found he soon followed him. Clever little Russia took down his greatest threats first then turned to his sights on the world. It was all like a bad dream. But it was amazing to see the spirit is ruffled up form resistance, Switzerland and Liechtenstein broke their neutrality and declared themselves against Russia, France himself was one of the first on the battlefield defending his honour and his people, the Italies surprised a lot of people when they turned up on the battlefield fully armed and a look of willpower in their eyes. Not a white flag in sight. But even with Europe banded together, Russia exploited the weakness that they still fought like it was only their country, they were still very vulnerable. When Europe fell it was deemed that all would fall. All was lost. Russia kept calling meetings to try and persuade the other nations to join his cause. Although most knew it as a display of power for every time he did there were new countries sitting by the madman. Eventually only one nation sat on the other side of the table, shivering from anger, holding himself back with all his might. Russia stared at him with longing in his eyes; he wanted the nation and offered the same thing again. He rose violently. He looked at the other nations, each one defeated and ashamed. He walked to the door humming under his breath.

England was the only nation left. England was terrified.

"You will become one with Russia…it is only a matter of time" Russia added at the silent nation.

England had other ideas. Isolation.

He disappeared within his shores. The ships returned. The channel tunnel closed. Planes were grounded. Systems were shut down, connections with the world cut, internet, television, radio, everything was gone as quick as the snap of the fingers. Ireland, Scotland and Wales all followed the green eyed nations understanding in his reasons, and they would stand together as a family. Slowly one at a time they too shut down their countries borders. And like a fog, The United Kingdom fell off the radar. However…it was seen as trivial and they were left while Russia went to crush any rebellion with the countries already under his control. After all it was only one tiny cluster of nations. Nothing more.

That was 2 years ago and now France was stood to finish his boss' deed.

However…something was amiss. The streets were deserted. Suggesting caution, they were to head for London, Britain would never leave his queen…not for anyone. The Russo-French Soldiers began to whisper, they were jumping at thin air and their nation didn't blame them, something was terribly wrong. He stopped and kneeling down on the ground plucked a tattered paper caught under a cart, he smoothed it over and his eyes widened.

_**The United Kingdom is to become isolated from the World:**_

_**Await instruction…**_

It was a newspaper; a single sheet, a single title, no article, no price, no picture. It was from 2 years previous. Like time had stood still. How on earth could a nation's population just disappear?

"Angleterre…what did you do?" he hissed, his voice raspy, rubbing his throat he felt a smile rest unnaturally on his lip, he had not spoken a French word in so long, it felt nice to say it, yet so foreign. Only the free nations could still be referred to by names in their old tongue. Once under Russia you were automatically Russian. He knew soon his Angleterre would answer to the name Англия. He shuddered.

The army travelled forward on foot. The fear began to build more and more as they moved along the roads and rails. No transport worked, no electricity flowed. A ghost town, but in terms of a country, like something straight out of a survival horror. The men began to complain in their mixed tongue again bringing a shiver to the nation, he could feel Russia under his skin as they spoke, he didn't like it but he made no action against it. After all he had been broken. His mind could not process the thoughts needed to detest the Russian. They rested every night although not much sleep was had. The soldiers felt themselves losing their minds, they believed they could see shapes running around, watching them, and monitoring them.

They began to suspect ghosts. Then they were scolded for thinking such things. However the shadows did appear to be moving, but only under cover of night. It was just wild dogs…animals left to return to their roots.

They reached London but when they found the streets were empty, they began to pray they would find anyone at all. France began to contemplate the possibilities, but none made sense. They had to be alive or they would see bodies, the smell would linger about the place and the animals would have entered the towns, they would see something, some form of evidence, but they saw nothing but ageing concrete and enigmatic circumstances.

"Search the streets!" France yelled, "If the English are not here then they make no resistance against The Great Empire"

Hearing his hollow footsteps, he felt memories forming behind his blank eyes, the suppression soon forced them down, he had been taught he had no need for them, the past before the Empire was unimportant, undesirable.

He stopped suddenly, looking ahead. Then he ran. He had seen someone head for the river. Had they found an Englishman? If so he must not be allowed to escape.

Sliding his rifle off his back as he quickened his pace he took off the safety and prepared to engage the enemy.

The figure ran to Tower Bridge. The structure tall and splendid acted as his cage. The bridge was raised so it cut off their escape.

"Silly man…surely after two years you should know if your bridge is open or closed" France chuckled, raising his gun. The figure before him had his back to him. A deep green cape draped over his shoulders, his hair was to his shoulder and wild "Now turn around…let me see what you look like"

The man turned slowly, drawing out each moment. France felt his patience wearing out.

"After 2 years, you finally try to invade; I am disappointed you thought so little of me as a threat. You think you can take this land?" The man spoke causing France to stare wide eyed in amazement.

The man was wearing the uniform of the British Army, eyes of emerald's and hair the colour of straw. His smile was sweet yet determined

"It's good to see you, Франция" The man laughed "Mind if I call you France?"

"Франция is fine…that is my name….England"

England let out a laugh; he could see the confusion on his face. He had become wilder over the24 months, his hair was long and unkempt, his eyes flashed with excitement at the prospect of a fight, his body was more toned, and he was stronger. He could understand why at first he was unrecognised, even his signature eyebrows looked less odd on his face. Chuckling to himself, he produced his own gun from beneath his cloak

"No, no, it doesn't suit you….I prefer France…much nicer sound when I say this" He expression dropped as he pumped the barrel of the gun

"Get the fuck out my country, you fucking French frog!"

"I am afraid I can't do that…" France replied, he smiled hearing the insult, he had not been called a frog in so long, but his army was closing in

"Is that the uniform of the Russo Empire?" England asked a little curious looking France up and down. The uniform was black, consisting of shirt, trousers, boots and a long coat. France's hair was tied back so that not a single hair fell in front of his face, a black hat upon his head. The Russian flag rested on his shoulder. England couldn't help but notice the pain etched on the nation's face.

"I am afraid you are quite outnumbered" France cut the silence "I don't know how you did it… But you truly are alone now"

"Oh? Is that so?" England smiled and trailed his hand in his now long hair with knowing and confidence "I think you miscount…"

France was confused until his men made a noise and pointed around the bridge. He looked up.

Around the bridge, above them, in front of them and behind them, in the once empty streets they took to get there, he could see their eyes. Anger filled eyes all staring at him. He felt like he was lost in the woods and the wolves had come to play. They had found the missing population of Great Britain and it became apparent they were surrounded. England shouldered his rifle and smiled.

"Did you enjoy our game of hide and seek?" The face was cheerful. Then once again, it dropped to a dark expression. In his current appearance, it was animalistic.

"We are the people of England! We are the people of Britain!" This was met by cheers and the sound of weaponry loading, preparing themselves

France couldn't help but admit, the inhabitants of the island looked like wild beasts, hunters who had cornered their prey, and he felt a twinge of fear in his soul. The isolation…these people…these people had been waiting for someone to invade. An act that had seemed cowardly and a last resort was actually a cleverly devised plan of patience. They had fallen right in the UK's hands. England aimed his gun at France ready for anything as he shouted

"And Britons never, never, NEVER!" England growled "will be slaves!"

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**So this is the first chapter - In the next chapter France and England will fight. Also be warned now, England has gone a little piratey in those two years of Isolation so expect him to laugh at death a few times**.

**Please review and let me know who you want England to fight- only you can't pick France, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Northern Ireland or Sealand- I already have plans for these people**


	2. Me comprenez vous?

**I will say it now! the French is most likely wrong! Please don't tell me about it unless you can offer what it should be so i can edit it!**

**Also thanks for your reviews guys- you have alot of great ideas for who England should fight...however...he will not be fighting Spain...Spain will be forced to fight someone I will add but that will most likely occur in chap 3 or 4**

**thank you for your support I hope you enjoy the first chapter I have ever written with a fight scene in it...

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It was chaos.

Having no choice but to disperse, the Russo-French army were quickly overpowered and outnumbered but they fought back. It could have been considered admirable, or stupid but it seemed that the army was either willing to do anything to help expand the Russian's empire, or desperate to get away from it. This seemed to differ from soldier to soldier

England stood holding his gun smiling at France. The smile was thin and wide and accompanied by sharp emerald eyes that could pierce the very soul. France shivered at the sight.

"So…" England smiled grabbing the Frenchman's attention, the eyes flashed. "Je suis tellement content que ce soit vous qui je me bats après tout ce temps" (I'm so glad it's you who I'm fighting after all this time)

France blinked as if England had just thrown water over him. He shivered as he tried to hold his tongue, he hated himself for feeling such confusion that brought a misted look to his eye, eventually he gave in and his mouth opened.

"W-what?" he asked cursing himself internally

"Quel est le problème?" (What is the problem?) England had to hold back the laughter choking his throat "Sûrement vous devriez savoir le Français. Vous êtes la France ne sont pas vous ?" (Surely you should know French. You are France are you not?)

France growled. England was taunting him in the lowest form.

"Angleterre please… this is childish" he hissed in warning, his hand tightened on his the handle on the rifle, his finger twitched.

"Je suis agir comme un enfant?" (I am acting like a child?) England finally burst into laughter and gripped his stomach leaning over himself, tears forming in his eyes, France was getting more and more agitated, how dare the nation before him mock him in such a way!

"Sûrement vous vous souvenez de tous les temps que vous avez parlés seulement dans le Français pour m'énerver ? Le dicton n'était aucun besoin d'apprendre les langues d'entre d'autres." (Surely you remember all time which you spoke only in French to irritate me? Saying was no need to learn languages of others.)

A shot rang out and England blinked, feeling the bullet catch his face, enough to leave a mark, a look of shock on his face. France was shaking with anger now.

"How dare you! You mock me over and over now you will pay for such actions!" France growled. England once again laughed heartily and brought his free had to brush the damaged skin, he was bleeding a little. He caught the ruby liquid on his finger and held it at eye level. France reloaded his gun.

"I'll take your heart next…" he promised

The dumbfounded expression quickly transformed back into the psychotic smile, this time the grin had England baring his teeth, clenched hungrily like the fangs of a beast. He seemed captivated at his own blood trailed down his finger, leaving a striking red line against his white skin. France felt a fear take over him again watching the interest in the Englishman's eye. Suddenly the emeralds then locked on France as the digit was brought to his lip and the blood was licked clean from his finger. The gun shot up held tightly in England's free hand.

"Commençons!" (Let us begin!)

The bullet exploded from the gun with a lot of force. France snapped out of his anger and ducked behind a nearby bridge support. England came running at him, keeping his body low, he picked up speed quickly. France ran to try and put distance between them, the more he saw of the nation, the less of a nation he seemed. Was he fighting an escaped animal? Turning on his heel and pushing himself backwards into the air, he shot at England and rolled over backward, he skidded a little on his knee, and reloading, brought the gun up to his face to get a good shot. England was hit in his left arm; he looked at it and tutted to himself

"Maintenant qu'était négligent de moi..." (Now that was careless of me…) England lay down the gun and pulled a dirk from his boot, he seemed to be muttering to himself then looked up at France, and smiled

"Un instant s'il vous plait" (one moment please) The dirk was plunged into the wound which caused France's stomach to turn, England let out a hiss as he flicked the head of the bullet from his arm, the red ball bounced along the floor. Cleaning the knife on his shirt, England grabbed the gun and rushed at France again.

"Shit!" France cried as he was forced onto the floor. He had once again stupidly given England mercy, enough time to treat himself and now the man was on top of him grinning like the Cheshire cat. The rifle in the man's hands was pressed against France's throat. With the air supply suddenly cut off, France's mind began racing with panic, he squirmed and growled screaming curse after curse into the air.

"No more mercy! You will bleed! You will bleed!" France bucked his legs and send England head over heels; he panted, sucking in as much of the precious air as he could muster. England grabbed at the man's hair and dragged him across the concrete

"Stop tenue à l'époque! Fais-moi saigner! Fais-moi saigner!" (Stop holding back then! Make me bleed! Make me bleed!)

France growled and kicked as he felt his whole head burn with pain

"Bastard! Bastard! Die, you pathetic excuse for a country!" he reached and grabbed England's hair and yanked down, bringing his knee up to meet the man's face. Shock racked through England and he let go of France and stumbled backwards clutching his noise, he felt at the bridge and nothing was broken apart from a few small veins, a waterfall of red stained the snow coloured skin, flowing into his mouth. France wasn't done yet, flipping over and pushing on the ground to propel himself up he threw a punch at the nation.

England saw him coming and defended, throwing a jab of his own to meet with France's stomach then as he coiled over with the force he brought his boot to France's chin. Before the Frenchman realised what was happening he was back on the floor again, he felt his jaw and hissed, it wasn't broken or dislocated but it was heavily bruised, and the copper taste in his mouth brought tears to his eyes.

Noticing both guns nearby, France turned onto his stomach and scrambled for them. England's eyes widened as he realised what France was doing, so pounced onto the man's back, pinning the man's arms.

"Luttez contre moi comme un homme! Seulement les lâches comptent sur les armes! Le puissant peut tuer avec leurs poings!" (Struggle against me as a man! Only the cowards count on weapons! The mighty can kill with their fists!) England hissed into the Frenchman's ear.

"Get off me, you moron!" France yelled, unable to understand a thing he was saying but the tone of his voice provoke the fighter in France. England kick at the man as he pinned him down over and over until France wrapped his legs around the boot and rolled causing England to scream out in pain as his leg bent the wrong way. With Britain in a pile on the floor cursing to the heavens, France grabbed one of the guns and placed his foot on the other, when he reloaded it, the click caught England's attention, he slowly rose from the ground.

"Your last chance, Angleterre…Join us on your own and you save your people the shame of dying against a great leader"

England smiled and laughed a little "God save our gracious Queen"

France watched the man with curiosity as he began to sing "Long live our noble Queen"

England reached for the back of his belt "God save the Queen"

He pulled out a handgun and held it to his temple smiling happily "Send her victorious"

France's eyes widened, was the country that willing to die over becoming a part of Russia's empire? And after all that fighting spirit, the snappy tone of the voice, mocking him and the way he fights. This was the great nation's last stand? It was a little pathetic for the former pirate.

"Happy and glorious"

France felt his hand shake and he was unable to keep a straight shot. He was scared for England.

"Long to reign over us"

Then the finger squeezed the trigger "God save the Queen"

France heard the whistle and felt the wind of the bullet; he heard it hit something behind him. His mouth hung open in shock as the smoking barrel was no longer pointed at the Englishman's head but straight at him, at the very last second he had turned his gun on his enemy. France thought England had missed, but the creaking of the structure behind him spoke otherwise, Looking up he saw the whole side of the wall begin to fall upon him

"Au revoir" he heard the Englishman speak as his vision was blurred by dust.

France awoke a while later under the rumble.

"Bastard!" he screamed and clutched his head as it ached; he looked around at the rumble that accompanied him. He was getting a little fed up of falling into the traps set by The United Kingdom. H e slapped his face, how could he think England would kill himself like that? He should have shot the man; he should have stopped him, charged at him. He began to be grateful that there was no communications out here because that meant Russia would not know of his constant failures and mistakes. Well now it was time to rectify them, pulling his battered and aching body from the broken concrete and steel he eventually saw daylight again. It hurt. He shielded his eyes and forced himself to stand even though his limbs felt like jelly.

He took a deep breath and fought against the pain that struck his body. Shedding his coat as it was tattered beyond belief, his shirt fared no better but in the climate that was good old British weather he did not want to risk going shirtless so instead rolled up his sleeves to clean his red covered forearms. Surveying his surroundings he noticed his heart beating quicker. It seemed they were finally pushing the British back. England had once again fled. Quickly shouldering the nearby rifle, he ran through the pain to join his soldiers. He hissed as his legs buckled a few times but he joined his men as they fought against the rebellious countrymen. They were in slow retreat and the idea that they were weakening brought a smile to the nation's lips. He had no way of knowing how long he was out but he was happy knowing his people were capable of pushing back the rebellion before them. The men were jeering at their enemy, they were becoming addicted to the idea that they were winning.

Suddenly there was the sound of an engine and a motorbike tore through the streets. Seeing the Russian flag wave upon it France knew it was a messenger. The boy tumbled off the machine and saluted the nation. He returned it

"What brings you here?" he asked curiously. The boy panted and looked terrified.

"We got word over the ship's radio…" he looked up at France and trembled "Our homeland…is being invaded"

France went wide eyed and his mouth fell open "What! I need details!"

"A large army has advanced upon Франция, they have already arrived at the capital and are taking out the troops there!"

France found his feet were moving, he was trembling, it couldn't have happened, there was no way "W-who leads them?"

"England does…" the boy choked. France broke into a run, his army now in retreat. The English army weren't losing; they were retreating to give their nation time. Another trap.

For this is what England had done:

As the building fell upon France, a small saddened smile appeared on his face

"I will free you my friend"

He turned on his heel and ran into the streets and into the battle field. Fishing a white square from his pocket he rushed towards his own troop, the handkerchief hooked between his fingers. Several eyes passed over the material and feet began to move. Forming two lines the front line created a sight block, the line behind slowly moved away crawling into holes in the ground. England followed. The holes lead to a large slide-like tunnel. There were thousands of them all over the city; they were the access to the world below, their world. England felt the air rush past his face as he slid down, a look of determination on his face, he prepared to meet the bottom. The bottom of the slide dropped away to a freefall onto a bridge below. Landing on it hard, he used the landing as a way to kick off into a sprint. Before him lay his home, a city that went on for miles with a ceiling over the top shielding it from the harsh realisations of the world above. He raced through the streets, he and his army ran determined through the streets, the civilian began to clear the path, they all knew what was happening and were not about to hinder what they had been preparing for. Up in the support guard towers that held up the ceiling, the guards watched as the street filled with little ants as the feet hurried them along. Calling down a pipe to alert the men below, gates were opened and an unused tunnel was revealed. Smirking Britain boldly ran into it, there was no light and the tunnel grew darker and darker and darker but the army kept running. Eventually they came into a large cavern of concrete. The Channel Tunnel.

Waiting for them was a large train, but the train had been adapted to simple carts that now accommodated a sail on every other carriage. Like Ships waiting to set sail. England felt his heart race as he looked up the mast that had a Union flag resting against it, longing to wave in the wind. England was ready to grant it that wish. The men clambered on board and England stood at the bow of the first ship and leaning forward he licked his lips. When the men were aboard and prepared, the nation raised his hand, from stern to bow, one after the other, the sails came down. This would have seemed silly since when the tunnel was blocked off at the English side to isolate themselves it meant no wind blew through. England then raised his other hand and the men by the blocked entrance secured themselves. Both hands were brought down. The wall was brought down with an ear piercing crash.

Suddenly the sails were filled with air as it rushed into the calm space, the boats moved forward and England laughed as the tunnel sped past them, the rush, the thrill. He hadn't felt it in years and the taste of all of it was enough to satisfy him. The large amount of air that was sucked into the tunnel acted as a wave and the ships sailed it happily, speeding along under the English Channel without detection. In the distance, light began to be seen in the distance, as it grew so did the adrenaline in the men's bodies. This was it. What they had been waiting for. Франция was ahead and they were about to fight their way through. England's smile grew larger as they entered the country. He knew they had to move fast, even with no communication in England stopping France was immediately being alerted, sooner or later he would come. So haste was of the upmost importance to reach their target in time.

When France finally reached his home again he saw it was being completely taken over. France saw dead and injured, he did notice that no French were dead, only injured in ways that took them out of fight. What game was England playing? His heart began to ache and he realised where the man had gone.

_Palais de l'Élysée-_ Still named in French, it was where their leader still lived too. England had made his way to the one above them all.

As the nation approached the majestic building three shots were heard. When this happened, the English troop suddenly lowered their guns. The Russo French army stared in confusion, but stood ready, for all they knew this was another trick. France doubled his pace until he came to lay his eyes upon the building. He stood for a moment and swallowed, the sound of the shots run out in his mind. He looked up to see a British soldier holding a rifle to his chest. He had been the one to shoot into the air; it was a signal to the troops. But a signal for what?

Allowing his eyes to wander down to the door, it creaked as someone took the handle from the other side, it opened slowly and England walked out, his head down low, he was dragging his gun behind him in one hand, in the other what appeared to be a body. He didn't even notice France at first; he seemed to be taking in everything that had happened. He was exhausted but felt the need to walk.

"Angleterre..." France finally spoke breaking the tension filled silence, staring down at the body England was dragging. His head shot up and looked at France. He looked confused and then smiled and laughed shaking his head.

"Hello France" he smiled looking relieved. His whole stance was more relaxed. The sharp emerald blades had dulled and dissolved and the smile was accompanied by a small blush of happiness. He dragged the dead meat pile and dropped in front of France. He then turned it onto its back so that the cold man's face was staring up at him.

"What did you do?" France asked staring down at the Russian General who was their countries leader. The man was now staring at him with no life behind his glass orbs

"Well, why don't you tell me" England smiled "Bonjour, j'mappelle Angleterre. Comment t'appelles tu?" (Hello, my name is England. What is your name?)

France's heart leapt. He couldn't believe the excitement that bubbled up his throat. He opened his mouth a smile upon his lips

"Bo..bonjour" he felt tears in his eyes "J'mappelle France…"

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**So France is free! yay lets have a party! also about the city under the earth- we will explain that in the next chapter cos france is gonna want to know what is going on**


	3. behold the rise of the Empire!

**Hello again I am trying a new page break idea in this one- the strange sentences that sound deep are me causing a scene change...that is all!**

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France stared at England

"There is no way I am jumping in that hole" he growled pointing at the ground before them. "I have only just gotten out of those awful things Russia calls uniforms and now you want me to jump in a random hole?"

France no longer wore black and instead had opted for his familiar military uniform. The bold colours of red and blue helped to calm him from the bad memories of his life before

England laughed "well yeah…How else am I going to take you to my house if you don't?"

"You live underground?" France blinked confused and yelled "are you telling me Angleterre that you have become a mole?" he growled and rubbed his temple. England tilted his head confused and blinked, then laughed, after living as he had for so long he had almost forgotten it wasn't normal to live below the surface. The memories of being above ground were in his head however he was a reflection of his country and since they could only see themselves as living underground, England could not help but think that was the only life he had. It frustrated him but it was going to be easier now that he was going above ground again.

"Just get in the hole France" England smiled and leant over the man with a dark expression "or I push you in"

"non! I will not be bullied by you!" France protested. But England kept his promise and a firm hand sent the protesting nation down into the abyss below.

France would have screamed but the air rushing pass him stole him of his breath, the tunnel seemed to go on forever and he was beginning to wonder if he would fall into the centre of the earth. But how would he know since he was current travelling backwards, his hair blinding him from everything. He felt a hand touch him and could just about see England who had jumped in after him. For you see England realised what he did was stupid, for it was quite a drop at the other end and would only result in France breaking his neck. Although a part of him wanted this to happen… France had just come from being under the suppressive hand of Russia, so it seemed a little unfair. Pulling France closer to him he moved himself around the nation so that England was now leading. It was weird. France had never seen England willingly take him so close. The thought played in his mind for a few moments as after that the two nations plummeted as the ground disappeared. England landed gracefully and caught a terrified and confused France before righting him to stand. Shaking a little France shook off the fear and then blinked. His eyes widened as he stared at the city before him.

"Angleterre where are we?" he asked dumbfounded

"London…" he shrugged. France looked at him confused. Above them was London how could this cave replace that? England stared at France with no emotion as if thinking, then suddenly he slapped himself "Ah I am so stupid….of course you look at me that way!"

France was now wondering what England was thinking.

"Let me start again- this is an Underground- a city far below the surface that accommodates us- there a many all over England and they are all named after the city they are under."

"This is how you disappeared…" France realised, his heart ached a little "you just went underground but…how could you have done all this so quickly"

"We already had underground trains here…so the foundation was already there…places like York were already filled with underground chambers so it wasn't that hard to build in the end…" England began "and I guess it helped that when Russia started invading…we started building"

France blinked, Russia had started invading 10 years ago…England had been preparing for Russia to take his country for 8 years…then he became angry

"So you didn't fight you prepared to run? For goodness sake Angleterre even Italy and Romano were willing to fight!"

England stared at him, a little hurt but he knew France was right, England had been a terrible coward but he knew as soon as the countries started to fight that they would fall, he knew he had to protect his people and if France hated him for it so be it, he sighed and was about to offer to take the nation home.

"But…" this caught England's attention "I will admit….moving a whole country underground…to this…and still be alive and well…it's impressive mon Lapin"

England felt a smiled spread across his face; he was actually being complimented by the frog.

"You know…you'd think I want to kill you but…it's nice to hear something so familiar" England laughed. He was going soft and he knew it "Even hearing you call me England…so nice…"

"Why on earth would calling you by your name be 'so nice'?" France was confused by the sentence

"Oh that's right…" England slapped himself again. France made a note to make sure he stopped England doing that "I haven't been called England in a while. The people here don't call it England because that is the surface…here I am known as 'The Underground' so…hearing my old name…is nostalgic I guess" he smiled.

France was silent as he watched England; he subconsciously leant against the railing. Suddenly he was eager to learn more about what England's life had become in those two years, why he was the appearance he was now…why everything about this London Underground…the name made him chuckle.

"I guess I should be happy then Angleterre"

"And why is that?"

"You finally let me into your Underground" He laughed. England playfully punched his arm

"Way to ruin the moment Frog" he couldn't help but laughed "bloody wanker…"

He grabbed France's wrist and dragged him across the bridge into the city. France looked at England although from behind, it could have been anyone but it certainly would have not been England if he had not seen his face. He went to question it then he looked around at the world. All the population were a lot more animalistic. It was like they had gone back in time, everything was bare minimum and clothes they were wearing we worn and patched up. A make do and mend attitude in a world before modernisation. The only real advancement was the hand guns and rifles, but other than that, it was like looking at the medieval period. It suddenly struck him as to why England looked so different. His people had gone back to relying on using their physical skills so England was more toned. They had been waiting patiently to be invaded, so England had become more like his pirate self, where he was itching for fight, something that he had been waiting for. The city's ideas on fashion and appearance had slowly disappeared as well seeing as most people were busy reinforcing the Underground and preparing for an invasion. On every head the hair grew long and on a lot of men the faces grew long beards. Their country however couldn't grow a beard for his life but France admitted to himself that the look wouldn't suit the nation.

Eventually they came to a large mansion like house. England had refused anything smaller and enjoyed too many rooms; he wanted to fill them with his friends. He wanted to give nations a place to hide away from Russia like he had. He turned to France

"So…like I said…this is my house" he smiled and opened the door. Inside the house was set out as only a gentleman would live. A two seat sofa and longue chair were situated in the corner a coffee table was placed on the rug that stood in between the seats, on the other side of the room was a large dining room and chairs with a door that lead onto the kitchen. In the centre of the room were the stairs that led upstairs and along the staircase wall was a large bookcase full with tomes and volumes. France was speechless again.

"Why live in such a big place?" he questioned as England fell back into the chair and sighed

"I was also preparing for the day I would help countries get away from Russia…so in case they wanted to hide…I made my place available for anyone"

France sat on the sofa and watched the man who seemed very close to sleep. But suddenly the green eyes snapped open and he lifted himself to sit "oh I almost forgot"

His gaze went to a basket by the window and opened it, he searched through it. France couldn't help but be intrigued as the man searched. England pulled out a folded piece of material and going back over to the nation held it out. Hesitating slightly France took the material and slowly unfolded it his eyes going wide

"You kept one…" a little bit of disbelief as his flag…his beloved French flag lay on his lap. He felt a tear form and fall. He brought the red white and blue strips to his face and nuzzled it lovingly. He smiled and looked up at England. "merci Angleterre…"

The nation smiled and blinked a few time making France tilt his head.

"Are you tired mon lapin?" as the nation shook his head while rubbing his eye, a small smile curled on his face. This was so reminiscent of when the two was younger. England denying his sleepy eyes rest as he was determined to stay up- like the grownups. France laughed

"What's so bloody funny?"

"You mon lapin" France stood up and lay the flag on the table "you never change oui? Still trying to stay up longer then you can"

"So I haven't been sleeping well…we have Russia to worry about"

"Oui…but I bet he still sleep at night" France felt the big brother in him rising, he knew England was stubborn. There was a lullaby he used to sing. He knew it helped sooth England and became the only way he would sleep; he pulled his lips into a pout and wondered if it would still have the same calming effect on the nation.

"You up to something…" England narrowed his eyes at the nation

"Oui" France smiled and leant in. He took England's hands from his face and smiled repeating the same scene from when they were children

"you need to sleep mon Lapin…" he dragged England over to the sofa "how will you be all big and strong if you don't sleep?"

"But I am not tired…" England didn't even realise he had slipped into the old scene, he yawned. France rolled his eyes and tutted

"Ever so stubborn" he smiled and forced him to sit by France "Big Brother France will take care of you"

England look at him as he leant in and whispered into his ear "Dodo, l'enfant do"

England froze up at the familiar words

"L'enfant dormira bien vite, Dodo, l'enfant do, L'enfant dormira bientôt" France sang into his ear, feeling the younger nation lean into his words, it was working.

"Une poule blanche, Est là dans la grange." England felt waves of sleep fall over him drooping his eyes lid so they were heavy. France placed a hand on each of England's shoulders and pulled the nation towards him. He smiled as England swayed with him

"Qui va faire un petit coco, Pour l'enfant qui va fair' dodo" England lay his head on France's lap, he fell into slumber as France stroked his head.

He smiled, this was exactly how it happened when they were younger, it was almost endearing that it still had the same affect on the younger nation. But now France was alone with his thoughts, as he watched England sleep.

Russia would soon realise he was gone, and he would come with force, he sighed and he moved his hand to rubbed the top of England's arm

"what are we going to do Angleterre…it is not like back in the days when we had Em-" then the thought struck him, he slowly move England's head to rest on his pillow and walked over to the bookcase. He smiled as he tapped the cover of the tome he sought and pulling it out with a smooth moment began to scan the pages, his smile widening. Yes, this was the way forward. He turned to England's sleeping form, and if it went all down the plug at least he would have someone to blame, a scapegoat as England would say.

There was a large banging on the door. Opening the door France was greeted by 4 large bodies

"Ah gentlemen and lady" he smiled "I was just hoping to see you"

-**Trust and hope go hand in hand, and this is what fuels ambition**-

The snow fell outside the window. As it always did. As it always did every single day. Spain sat on the rug in front of the fire, little Romano was sat between the Spaniard's legs leaning into him. They were both silent, unsure what to say, unsure what to do. They remained close to each other as a reminder of how it used to be. They listened to the fire crackle and watched the flames dance, as if hoping to be hypnotised and be taken from the harsh reality. Italy sat in an armchair nearby with a book on his lap, he looked up to the solemn faces in front of him, he sighed and was about to return to his reading when the door opened. All three of them turned to see Germany returning from seeing Russia.

"Германия?" Italy asked closing the book. The man looked up at the nation

"Apparently Франция has yet to report in so I am going to check on him would you like to come?" Germany replied

Italy nodded and placing the book on the side table he ran over to the nation "please…"

The two left and Spain and Romano returned to staring into the fire

"If only Tomatoes grew in snow…" Romano spoke. Spain let out a little laugh

"Yeah…" he placed a hand on Romano's head and leant into him stroking his hair "if only…"

-**In time of need, follow your heart. In need of time, follow your head**-

He slowly woke up to see France sewing onto his flag. England was confused and sat up

"Sleep well?" France asked as he cut the thread

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Well I think it looks nice now I decorated it" France held up the flag and England's mouth hung open

"WHAT THE FUCK!" he yelled. On the blue section of the French flag, France had sewn the Union Jack onto it

"Don't expect me to sing God Save the Queen though" France chuckled and pushed forward a piece of paper that had five signatures on it.

"The Neo British Empire?" England was speechless…almost "but you all…hate me…why the fuck would you want to sign a document that puts you under my command?" then he thought about it "and without my bloody permission!"

"Ah I have my reasons Angleterre, but we are all in agreement so I am afraid you have no choice but to be our leader" he winked

"And why Neo? That's sounds like something America would do…" England grumbled "Never fucking going to sleep again…stupid fucking frog"

France laughed and rose to his feet " Now if you will excuse me I have to go raise my new flag, try not to miss me too much" and with that left leaving England in a state of shock.

"Things couldn't get any bloody worse…"

"YOU'RE ALIVE ENGLAND!" He was knocked off his feet by a hyperactive micro-nation.

-**When Darkness falls, a light of courage will lead our way**-

Italy remained quiet in the journey over. Germany hated the silence, he missed the hyperactivity that was North Italy, but the nation had been crushed since then. He was saddening.

"Hey look" Italy pointed ahead as they approached the border, "it looks like the French flag…but different"

The car slowed and Germany got out to be greeted by the French army guarding the border.

"What is going on here?" Germany asked surveying the flag, his eyes narrowed. One of the soldiers moved forward and offered the nation a letter. Snatching it and hastily opening it to reveal a declaration. He gritted his teeth as he read it " Dam you France are you a moron?" he yelled as he climbed into the car next to Italy who began to shake, tears forming

"You said France…"

"I know…" he turned the car around and Italy broke down in tears, he had to be strong, after all…they had to face Russia now.

-**In this world of fear, innocence is threatened**-

Many of the nation watched as Germany dragged Italy down the hallway

"No I don't want to tell him! I don't want to tell him!" the Italian cried "why did we have to find out!"

"Find out what?" a shadow appeared behind. They turned and Italy shivered.

"well…" Germany began but Russia stopped him

"I want Италия to tell me da…" he purred pulling the Italian close, the boy going pale as he was forced to open his mouth and deliver the bad news"

-**The young have experience in dreams; something the elder could take note of**-

"I have a question…" England rubbed his forehead "How is it I have hidden away for two years and somehow you slipped in without meeting any resistance?"

"Because I felt your army going through the channel tunnel I just rushed over…I may have run some people over…" Sealand bounced excitedly " I was so happy…you may be a jerk but I was all alone and Russia was ignoring me"

"Ah…" France who had returned to find the England fighting off the micro nation felt the need to answer that "Russia had no interest in the micro nations"

"Well he should and I am gonna show him why… England! I heard you and France talking about a British Empire earlier right? Let Sealand join you fight against him"

England sighed, Sealand would do anything to be a nation, but all he was, was a seafort that had…something…he could use…

A small smile graced his lips. "OK Sealand you can help me"

"EH?" France looked at the nation in shock. The small boy cheered

"So you recognise me?"

England nodded "I…The Un….no sorry…I The United Kingdom Of England and Northern Island recognise The NATION" he emphasised the word "of Sealand as a part of the Neo British Empire"

The new nation squealed in delight as England showed him where to sign on the document.

"Zut alor!" France cried "he has lost it…spending so much time under the earth has dampened his brain"

England smiled and placed a hand on Sealand "so let's go"

"Go where?" the new nation was confused

"To yours of course after all you have all those weapons I LEFT THERE years ago"

"You can't take my weapons!"

"Oh but I can since you just declared yourself as under my rule…so my weapons, as long as I recognise you are a nation that means you are a part of my empire, now let's go"

France blinked, had England just swindled a child? Wow…he never thought he would see the day…

"I don't want to be a nation anymore!" Sealand cried and England dragged him off

"Well as America would say- No backsies" he laughed

- **There is a time for action and a time for talk, sometimes the two smudge together**-

'Poor Италия', Spain thought as his army advanced across his land to the French border. Russia had dragged the nation off after hearing the news, who knew what he did to little Italy, All he knew was when he returned he told Spain to go and drag the Frenchman to his senses. But why him? Seriously…the Spaniard didn't want to fight France; he didn't have a reason other than Russia to do it.

He stopped at the border and blinked, the army guarding it was not the French army

"Can I help you laddie?" came a rough voice. Spain turned to see a tall man with long wild red hair tied back in a ponytail, he had a wild look in his eyes and his body looked toned and worn, yet sturdy. Spain thought he knew him from somewhere but couldn't quite place it

"I am here to take France in the Name of The Russian Empire!" He yelled hand tightening on his gun.

"Oh have ya Laddie?" The man laughed and raising his gun to his chest "well that sissy France ain't here right now…but I'll gladly fight cha" he smiled

"And you are?" Spain gritted his teeth

"You can call me Scotland"

* * *

**Spain Vs Scotland! place your bets people!**


	4. Swish the red cape

***music starts playing* Ladies and Gentlemen please take your seats...Spain AND Scotland are in the ring! LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLE!**

* * *

"What is going on now?"

"Sir…there were reports of fighting on your border with Spain…"

"Ah I see…Russia finally came to take me back…is it Spain who leads the attack?"

"Oui"

"What do you think, Angleterre?"

"That the bloody git is in for the fight of his life"

The guns clashed together like swords; again and again they conflicted as the two nations were at the other's eye level, forcing their full weight onto their weapons trying to overpower the other. Spain brought his leg up quickly and pushed away from Scotland with a boot to the stomach. Scotland fell onto his back and was winded a few seconds. It was enough for Spain, he skidded, pulled his dagger from his belt and rushed at Scotland, bringing the blade above his head and dived forward on the Scot. Luckily he came to his senses in time, he rolled out the way barely missing the knife as it came down and clipped his ear and struck the hard ground. He hissed and then smiled.

Spain brought up the dagger again, straddled over the Scottish man pinning him to the ground, he brought the dagger down in a large arch crying out, aiming for the man's head. The arms shot up and grabbed the Spanish wrists.

"Sorry, I never asked for a makeover!" Scotland hissed trying to push the nation back, Spain would not be beaten, his heart began to race as his pride slipped in, and the memories of his conquest flowed through him, each battle empowered him as he wrestled to plunge the dagger downwards. Scotland cursed himself internally, England had warned of this and as always he never listened and once again he was regretting it. He saw the look in the man's eyes, he was no longer fighting for the empire, his memories were sparking a fire in his heart. His passion to fight was driving him forward now, Scotland was now someone to test his strength on, to help him develop. Scotland smiled knowing that look. He wasn't about to disappoint such a desire as the one in Spain's eyes. He had to attack and he had to strike now.

In seconds he was on his knees and propelled himself at the Spaniard, head butting him square in the jaw he grabbed the knife as the shock caused the Spaniard to lose his grip on it. He followed the man as he toppled overbalancing. Spain felt a rough hand grip his face and force his head into the dirt, he growled and then yelled as his own blade make quick work of his skin. Scotland leaped over the Spanish body and straightened himself. Spain shakily pushed himself up with one arm, his eyes cast down his other. Through the shredded uniform, he could see the olive skin blemished with his rapidly cooling blood, the red enraged the bull.

Scotland then had several lucky escapes. Dodging left and right, he managed to narrowly avoid Spain's punches. But suddenly he clipped his cheek. Spain was getting closer to his mark, if he hit it, it would be lights out and the Scot knew it. He had one shot.

As Spain swung again Scotland voluntarily allowed his legs to buckle and he fell like a stone in water. Spain was confused but the momentum of the punch threw him forward into nothing as his target disappeared to the floor. Scotland then landed a blow to the vital regions and sent the bull crashing into a boulder. He rolled onto his stomach and pushed up to stand

"Ole…" he laughed and Spain growled.

"I will silence you!" he jumped up and limped a little, his voice strained. Scotland laughed.

"I heard you dance well…" he smiled "But you're having trouble keeping up"

"That's what you think!" and he rushed again smacking straight in Scotland and wrestling him into the floor, knocking the weapons from Scotland onto the ground. Spain took a hold of the messy red hair and yanked it back to reveal the man's throat. He threw a punch but Scotland caught it.

"Have to do better than that" he smirked. And punched Spain in the face. Spain's head turned with the force and he saw his knife.

He dived away and grabbed the knife. Scotland spun and pulled a dirk from his belt. They both turned.

They were breathing heavily, frozen in a stalemate…cold steel pressed against the other's throat.

-**Ignite the fire of Passion, Let it lead to courage!-**

China stood by the desk, quiet and blank hiding the feeling of pain and the feeling of being ashamed. Wrapped around his legs, whimpering and beaten, was a small nation. China made no movements to help him, but he did not kick him away. He looked over to the desk where Russia was sat.

"Did it make you happy?" he couldn't help the bitterness in his voice "All he did was follow your instruction and yet you beat him for bringing you a little bad news?"

Russia looked up at China with sharp eyes that were a warning. China returned the glare, he was furious at the man. Russia laughed and his face became gentler, he rose from his chair and removed his large coat. China cast his eyes to the floor, looking at the power hungry nation turned his stomach and made him ill. The next thing the nation knew, he felt a large hand cup his chin and forced the country to look up to lock eyes with the cold nation.

"You truly are amazing Китай" he smiled "After so long you still defy me…but I have adoration for it, it makes me smile"

"Well… I still don't agree with your methods…"

"Are you still sore about Hong Kong?" the question clipped at China's head and made him wince. He gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowed, he went to speak but thought better of it. His thoughts flickered to Hong Kong and his hand rose to clutch Russia's wrist. It tightened.

Russia smiled seeing the hostility, no matter what he did the nation continued to rebel, constant suppression, constant threat, constant warning and yet still he fought against him. He realised that's why he liked to keep China locked away in here, his own personal amusement. Someone he could spar with. He looked down to the quivering boy still clinging to China.

"I do enjoy our time together Китай" he smiled and turned " But now I must leave…remember to clean up after that" he pointed to China's feet. He swung open the office door and light streamed into the darkened room and then it was shut off as it slammed shut.

China growled and clutched his fists

"I'm sorry…" China looked down to see two hazel eyes looking up at him, confused and scared "I'll never come back with bad news again I swear, only good news…of conquests and glory and… and"

His expression softening, he shuffled from the boy's grip enough to kneel down by him, he pulled the boy close rubbing his back in comfort, whispering to the boy soothing words. He felt the shivering of the other body slow until it was a light shudder. Russia was going too far…but what could he do? He knew he wasn't strong enough to take on the mad man alone.

"Are you OK now?"

"Yes…I feel much better…s-sorry to have troubled you Китай" he smiled and got up "I should go see if my brother is ok…I heard Испания was called out to get France back so he will be lonely…"

China nodded "I heard that might be some pasta in the last delivery… and some tomatoes…" he smiled as the boy's face lit up overjoyed.

"Thank you for telling me! He will be thrilled to hear that!"

And with that he ran out of the room. China kept smiling until the door closed and he was alone. His face instantly dropped. He screamed, he raised his leg and broke it down hard on the large oak deck. It cracked in two like a walnut and China left his foot there panting furiously allowing all his stress that had built up to flow away like a river. Once it passed he began to breathe deeply to re focus himself.

"Maybe I shouldn't have done that" he sighed looking at the destroyed wood "Wonder if superglue would work"

**-Alone, we are an annoyance, together we are unstoppable-**

"You going to finish me?" Scotland laughed. Spain smile turned foul

"I should ask you the same thing…"

"Aye, that is true but I guess I was wondering if something was holding you back" The tightening of Spain's hand on his knife seemed to answer the question. The Scot smiled

"I think you'll find that is none of your business"

"I was just curious, It wouldn't happen to be a brunette Italian would it?" Scotland was now staring at Spain "I wonder…what he is doing right now"

"You have no right to talk about him"

"All alone…"Scotland ignored him "All alone and at the mercy of Russia…"

Spain shook a little "He is fine…Романо can look after himself"

"Do you really believe that?" Scotland asked "Because I think you feel guilty"

Spain winced

"I am right aren't I? After all Russia could do whatever he wanted to him and you couldn't stop him"

Spain growled. How dare he? How dare he suggest such a thing.

"Russia is probably all over him right now, holding him, undressing him, stroking that sweet little curl on his head causing such …sweet…little…moans"

Spain tried to stop listening but the words slipped in, creating the image in his mind. His Romano…his little Romano…he couldn't protect him…couldn't save him

"Sh-shut up!" he shouted, tears pricking his eyes

"I bet he likes it"

Spain's eyes shot wide open "Like hell he would!" he was angry the nation would even suggest such a thing.

"I bet he is begging for more"

"How dare you! How dare you suggest such a thing!" Spain was seeing red

"And Russia would take the bastard…the little Italian is still a virgin right? Which just makes him even more desirable"

"You leave him alone, you leave Романо out of this!" Spain was practically growling

Scotland smiled "Hey…even I wouldn't mind a quick fuck with him"

Spain snapped. Forgetting everything he kicked Scotland and then launched himself on top of Scotland. Sitting on the man's stomach, he held the knife with the point hovering over Scotland's throat, eyes dark with anger and panting in rage, Scotland looked shocked.

"You will not touch him! He is my…he is my…" the word was on his tongue but he couldn't say it…it refused to say it in Russian so instead tears fell

"Any last Words?"

"Aye…" Scotland regained his composure "You're are a worthy opponent Spain, very strong…very fast, however"

Spain raised an eyebrow.

"You left yourself wide open"

Spain was confused and then

CLUNK!

His eyes rolled in his head and he fell sideways. Scotland laughed nervously and sat up removing himself from the unconscious body of the Spaniard. He looked up the see a young boy with flame red hair, emerald eyes and thick eyebrows, a mini England with freckles with the same animalistic aura. Northern Ireland.

"You did well laddie" Scotland forced himself to stand "But next time five minutes earlier would be nice"

The boy smiled and dropped the large boulder he had

"So what do we do with him?" he pointed to the nation who was started to mumbled come nonsense under his breath. Scotland sighed

"Tie the bastard up and drag him back to the tea sucker…let him deal with it" He picked up his gun from the floor and motioned his army. He took a cigarette to his lips and lit it

"What are you going to do?"

Scotland turned to his younger brother, took a drag on the cigarette and smiled

"I'm going to _Palacio de la Moncloa_" he laughed "Just a little pest control"

* * *

**So we get to meet Northern Ireland wooooooooo and Evil Scotland putting those images of Romano and Russia** **in our heads. Wonder what Russia is gonna do when he finds out he lost enough...and will Spain swallow his pride if offered a place on the Empire?**

**And what will his little tomato do when he finds out?**


	5. Taming the bull as best you can

**Hi here is the next chapter. Used a translator for a bit in this...if its wrong...its because the nations spent so much time speaking russian they are relearning! I have said it so it is canon! or something... anyway as some of you may have noticed Mysteriousshamrock92 drew a picture of France showing england his new flag**.** It made me smile so here is the link to it**

**http: / samstar1990 . deviantart . com / favourites / ?offset=24# / d3d9whu (as always take out the spaces)**

**I would really love to see any pictures etc people want to do- they make me smile. Also it might help you when I get round to the contest I am planning hehe**

* * *

"Романо!"

Romano shuddered as he heard the ice cold word crash down on his shoulders. Russia was angry and shouting his name. He shook and tried to remember what he could have possible done wrong, what he could have done to cause such a violent reaction in his leader. He nearly jumped clean from his skin as a hand touched his shoulder. His gaze shot up to meet the worried face of Belgium, she flashed a small smile for a second but had a look of terror in her eye.

Romano went to speak when she grabbed his hand and forced him to stand and then dragged him away quickly from the room and down the hall. Romano had no idea what she was thinking but he followed her regardless, she didn't stop until they had reached the stairs, here she opened up the cupboard underneath and pushed the Italian inside. Blinking in confusion as he sat cramped up inside the small space that he had to share with a lot of cleaning equipment when he looked up at the girl he went to protest but her placement of a finger to her lips halted the words in his throat as he watched her close the door on him.

Belgium began to clean a stain from the door as the fuming Russian walked past, he then stopped and turned and she felt his eyes bore into her hot and scarring.

'Please stay quiet, Романо' she prayed as he approached

"Бельгия….where is Романо?" he growled. Romano clamped a hand to his mouth. Belgium shook her head

"I have not seen him since Испания left sir" she was shaking like little Latvia.

"I see…well when you see him tell him I wish to speak to him"

"M-may…I ask why?" she stuttered trying to keep Russia from the door

"Spain has failed…he was taken by the Neo British Empire" he paused, thinking on what he just said "And now it appears he was liberated too…"

Romano began to shake, his eyes wide, Spain was gone…the one person who was keeping him sane was gone. He bit his tongue, causing tears to fall as he waited for the Russian to leave.

When the footsteps fading and the light poured into the small space giving him the signal it was safe, Romano felt his heart racing. He didn't want this; he didn't want any of this. But what could half a nation do?

Spain groaned as his head spun "stupid cheating son of a-"

"Bonjour mon ami!"

Spain's head shot up and his eyes shot open, both of which he was regretting doing as both actions brought a sharp pain in his head.

"France?" he questioned as his eyesight was still acting against him for a few moments. But soon they adjusted and in front of him he saw France and England hovering over him. He let out a shout and tried to move he found his arms and legs were bound by rope.

"What on earth!" he yelled "Untie me right now!"

"If we did that you beat us up, you git, we're not stupid" England huffed, the rivalry between the two former pirates was still there and this somehow managed to raise the heat of the room dramatically. France sighed and tried to intervene

"We didn't want you hurting yourself since we just got you here"

Spain growled and then he yelled "Hijo de puta! Cuando salga de aquí me voy a matar lenta y dolorosamente, y no me importa si me castiga por Rusia para ello, porque será tan jodidamente vale la pena! » (Son of a bitch! When I leave here I'll kill you slowly and painfully, and I do not care if I punished by Russia for this, because it will be so fucking worth it!)

England blinked and laughed seeing Scotland had done his job…for once. France smiled but the smiled turned into a confused frown as Spain continued to babble on in Spanish

"Does he even realise he isn't speaking Russian anymore?" he turned to England who blinked as he had not been listening to the Spaniard prattle on since he didn't particularly care.

"Y una cosa más! Usted y su estúpido hermano y todos los demás en esta rebelión de los llamados van a ser aplastado simplemente aceptar ya!" (And one more thing! You and your stupid brother and everyone else in this so-called rebellion will be crushed just accept it now)

"You're not even under Russia anymore, you jack ass!" England screamed

"¿Qué?" Spain blinked confused

"You're speaking Spanish Spain…" France face palmed himself shaking his head. Spain blinked then a smile crept across his face, he actually felt happy.

"Also you're now a part of the Neo British Empire"

And there went the smile

"Go to hell eyebrows!"

England was about to jump on Spain when France once again got between them

"Come on now Spain…if you stay independent then Russia will just invade and take you back…but if you join us then we protect you. Simply put its either Russo Empire…or Neo British Empire"

Spain narrowed his eyes at his friend "Neither really sound promising"

England grunted and pulled his dirk from his boot he pushed the older nation out the way and pushed his boot onto Spain's stomach. Spain grunted from the force and looked at England as the knife was brought up to his eye level

"Russia, me…or the knife" England laughed. Spain actually went silent like he was have a serious thinking session.

"Make it quick" Spain spoke bluntly tilting back his head to expose his throat

"Ok!" England smiled darkly and his hand tightened round his blade and he went to strike

"Angleterre!" France protested and England swerved the knife at the last second and turned on the spot to face France completely taking all contact with Spain away

"I wasn't really going to do it…" England laughed stroking the blade in a way that didn't convince the Frenchman.

As the nation was scolded by his peer, Spain saw this as a chance to escape and jumped up somehow forgetting both his hands and feet were bound and so like a tree fell straight down and hit the floor with a thud.

England and France turned to see Spain apparently crawling across the floor heading for the door. France smiled a little embarrassed of his friend, he put his hands on his hips, England slapped himself in disbelief as the Spaniard attempted some kind of worm across his floor

"Should we stop him?" he asked half heartedly. France laughed.

"Non, non, there is no need for that" he smiled "Five, four, three, two"

Spain collapsed on the floor panting and frustrated

"Oh he was a little early that time"

England grumbled "You deal with him" and with that left the room. France smiled and walked over to the Spaniard and untied him

"Mon ami, want to know why I joined the empire?"

"I was wondering why you would join HIM"

"Well, it's because we need to join together to battle Russia and reclaimed what is ours…also… if it all goes wrong England is the one who takes all the blame, the one who gets all the punishment"

Spain blinked thinking over this new information.

"Also think about where you are Spain…you're pinned on all corners by the Russo Empire apart from the border you share with me…surely having friends in the day and age is the best idea"

Spain sighed and grumbled "Fine…" he folded his arms. France smiled

"You will have to put Angleterre's flag on your flag" at this Spain shot daggers at him. France shivered and dug the Spanish flag from the flag basket and laid it on the floor.

"Can it be small?" Spain grumbled stroking his flag out so it lay perfectly. France nodded and watched his friend mark out an area on his flag. He demonstrated with his finger an area the size of a postage stamp

"Bigger than that Spain"

He moved his fingers a full millimetre

"Bigger"

Few more

"Bigger…"

Few more

"Look mon ami, stop being stupide, I have better things to do than watch you throw a tantrum over a stupid rivalry you have with England"

Eventually Spain finished sewing the flag onto his own, he grimaced as his precious red and yellow was tarnished with blue. The flag was also too big for his liking.

"France, you know he has to sign the document?" England appeared holding a tray with three teacups on it

"Oui, oui, Spain was just deciding on how to edit his flag"

England sighed as Spain glared daggers at him before he rose and looked over the document they wanted him to sign and made a noise of disgust

"Fine I will sign a document to be a part of your…empire…" Spain place emphasise on the last word "I will follow you into battle and fight for you but I am going to do what I want and you can't stop me"

England nodded and watched the Spaniard sign "I wouldn't have it any other way"

His feet pounded into the snow, a blizzard was coming in fast but he knew he could get away from it before it got too bad. He refused to stay in the place where he would be beaten for information he did not have.

So he ran

He was going to head home, hide away from the world. He was at his wit's end and was going to do whatever he wanted and not let anyone stop him.

As the snow turned to dirt he realised he was nearing home.

Romano was exhausted, but he kept running…

"¿Qué es esto!" Spain cried out stepping outside the house for the first time and getting the shock of his life "We're underground?"

"Yeah, pretty much" England nodded

"This isn't living…this is a hole…" Spain grumbled

"Oui…it is also off the radar so we are invisible to Russia"

Spain looked at Francis "I guess you have a point but…what about the sky? Don't you miss it?"

"Well, yeah…the only people who see it are the farmers…You go without it for so long you forget when day and night are… messes up your body clock a bit"

"Mon Lapin falls asleep at the weirdest times and tend to just fall into it just like that" he snapped his fingers "Il est si mignon" (He is so cute)

"Speak English, Frog" England was going red

"Ah not now I know you can fully understand me" France purred to the younger nation

Spain sighed and turned away from the two and looked over the city noting a family nearby holding a 2 year old, he felt sorry for the child. So many children down here had not ever seen the sky. It saddened him.

His thoughts then fluttered to Romano. He gripped his chest

"I'll come get you soon Romano"

Unbeknownst to them, news was beginning to travel

There were riots in South Italy.

* * *

**So Romano has kinda snapped...but you'll get to hear more about that in the next chapter**


	6. Enclosed hearts expose fear

**Hey people- England had a bit of a heat wave so I kinda abandoned my laptop- donned on some hetalia school cosplay and went on a picnic outside- was fun! But it's here now hehe**

**I promised myself i would get this up today as this weekend- going to a hetalia masquerade party at Spain's house it's going to be so much fun! so i probably won't have any new stuff till at least next week**

**Thanks to Mystmoon who has drawn the British Isle's designs and detailing**

**meanwhile Sammy has put up some Russo Empire designs- Romano's seems very popular at the moment...  
**

* * *

"Ah so the lad is awake?" a rough voice called. The three looked over to see Scotland walking over, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, puffing along happily. Spain growled a little.

"You!" he called

"Yes, me" Scotland laughed. England raised an eyebrow. Scotland had an amazing ability to rub people the wrong way, mostly unintentionally.

"Scotland! Have you been teaching Northern Ireland bad habits?" A rough feminine voice rang out from inside the house

"Why do you care?"

"Because he is using them to annoy me!" she yelled back, appearing in the door way followed by Northern Ireland and another blond nation as well.

Spain turned and stared as the collection of brothers and sister began to bicker in the doorway. France sighed and shook his head and stood by his friend "They always fight…but since the isolation it's become purely name calling"

"But I hardly recognise them!" Spain replied, motioning to the five nations who had suddenly forgotten they were there

"Never fear! France will sort this out" he whistled to catch their attention before France walked over and hooked England's arm.

"As you know, this is England" France cooed. Spain finally took this moment to look the man up and down, the nation couldn't quite place the man he considered his greatest enemy as the same man who stood before him now. He looked stronger and more deadly. The Spaniard suddenly found himself forcing his more violent personality down as the pirate in him screamed to challenge the nation's new strength.

France then gave the Englishman a rough push and pulled the youngest nation into view of the Spaniard.

"This is Northern Ireland" Spain blinked at the nation. He looked like a red haired young England with freckles; he wore a black waistcoat, white shirt and black trousers. "He is the youngest of the British Isles and doesn't really converse with the world so this is probably your first meeting" the young boy went red, nervous and wanting to get away from the Frenchman's grip

"He's also the one is gave you a nasty bump" Scotland laughed. Spain winced at the memory and grabbed the lump on his head. Northern Ireland let out a small meep, and finally found the strength the squirm away from France; he ran and hid under England's cloak as if it suddenly made him invisible. England sighed and placed his head on the boy's back, comforting him.

"And you know Scotland" France pointed to the Scot who stood up posing. He wore a kilt and black t-shirt, his blue army jacket draped over his shoulders. His hair was as long as England's but it was tied back away from his face. It also appeared that out of all the British Isle males, Scotland was the only one to have grown a beard, stroking at the stubbing that decorated his chin. Spain growled, angered at Scotland.

"This lovely young lady is Ireland" France motioned to a long red haired female with green eyes and freckles. She wore tradition medieval dress made of blouse and tartan skirt with green overcoat. However the frayed material along the bottom suggested it had been ripped.

"Don't think I am a pushover though" she smirked triumphantly.

"And lastly, this is Wales" France motioned to the silent, pale blond male who bowed his head. He wore a traditional welsh outfit of a white shirt with cravat, black waistcoat and black trousers. His hair appeared short upon first inspection, however once Spain looked closely it appeared his hair had in fact been tucked into his blue hat on his head that was fixed with a Welsh dragon pin.

Spain looked at all the nations in front of him "But why are you in clothes you no longer wear?"

They all looked at him. He suddenly felt stupid for asking

"Because Spain, it is easier to move in our older clothing and we don't mind as much about them getting them torn and stuff" Ireland puffed her cheeks and tried to make herself seem more impressive then England, who rolled his eyes

"Are you trying to make yourself taller?" he asked

"N-no…I have no need to do that!"

"Is this because I am taller then you?" he teased as she turned the same colour as her hair and punched the Englishman's arm

"Shut up you sissy!" she cried. The bickering was about to begin again when Spain perked up

"Erm, could someone help me get to the surface, I would really like to head home to change and sort out my army and other things" he smiled trying not to get caught up in sibling rivalry.

England nodded and walked ahead of the Spaniard up a very long winding set of stairs until sunlight greeted them at the top. Spain breathed a sigh of relief as he didn't like being under the ground.

"Well, I will see you when I have finished my preparations"

"So in at least 3 years…" England laughed knowing the nation was determined to spend as little time as possible near him. Spain laughed and nodded before heading off. The two nations that remained stayed silent until Spain had disappeared from view. England turned and then felt France's hand clamp down on his arm.

"It is such a wonderful evening, lets go for a walk Angleterre" France didn't give England a chance to argue as he dragged away the nation by his arm into the sun.

After ten minutes the Frenchman spotted a tree and sat on the ground next to it. He blinked as he noticed England seemed to have zoned out and stood where France had left him

"Angleterre?" he asked. England blinked a few times before realising where he was

"Can we go back now?" he asked a tiny shake in his voice. France didn't notice

"Non! You need to relax now sit down…" he snapped and England reluctantly obeyed sitting on the ground next to him. He brought his knees to his chest and stared down at the ground in front of him.

France looked at England who had gone deadly silent, he seemed to be shaking and his breathing had become deeper, he also appeared to be fighting back tears.

"Angleterre?" France asked and England snapped, burying his head in his lap muttering to himself. France got closer and ran his arm over England's shoulders and listened to the man next to him

"Too much space…anything can happen…need to get….back underground…"

"You have agoraphobia?" France blinked, the thought had never occurred to him. England nodded. "But you were fine when you liberated me…"

"It all went to plan…every detail…plan…plan…s-so well… nothing was altered…" England muttered

Suddenly it all made sense… England's life in the underground was so scheduled, so organised that not even the sun changed the plan, however the lack of control he felt, being outside for no reason scared the nation, anything could happen and he had no way of stopping it. France felt a twinge in his heart seeing the great nation reduced to a child. He tugged at the hood on England's cloak and drew it over the blonde's head, reducing his peripheral vision, then turned him towards his own body as he drew the panicked Englishman into an embrace. England froze up at first. He shuddered and tried to pull away, all he wanted to do was collapse in a pile on the floor and France wasn't helping. The Frenchman's hold on his back locked in place, he hit against the man's chest and kicked away as hard as he could but his nerves had given out on him long ago and all it served was to turn him into more of a trembling mess than he already was when he was first forced outside. He cried out and shook his head, but after a few more seconds his will finally completely succumbed to fear and he snapped his arms around the older nation, burying his head into the man's chest. France felt his shirt dampen, England had been crying. He was still shaking furiously and having trouble keeping his breath as it kept catching in his throat, and it saddened France.

"It's ok Angleterre… I will protect you… I won't let a thing harm you…" he smiled placing a hand on the back of England's head and then gently kissed the top of the man's head.

"You promise?" the voice burrowed in his shoulder asked, the Brit felt stupid asking but he needed reassurance

"Oui" France felt England calm in his arms so took the moment to lead the nation who he had blinded with his own hood to the tree then sat himself into the trunk and held the Englishman close cradling him whispering words of encouragement and comfort in both French and English. He then cast his eyes to the darkening sky and sighed. Soon they would be back in England's comfort zone.

Spain was adjusting his neck tie in the mirror, he smiled happily to himself. Black never did suit him and he shook his head at the thought that it ever did. He longed for colour and the excitement that came with it. Strolling out onto the balcony, he allowed the sun to grace his skin and the warming sensation was a welcome feeling after years of trudging in the snow. Suddenly a familiar scowl seeped into his mind making the Spaniard go wide eyed and silent as the wind tossed his hair playfully.

He could hear rumours below. They spoke of a country in turmoil with itself, rioting and fire littered the streets and although it was a welcomed change from the strict fist of the Russian's empire it was still quite saddening to think that the inhabitants had fallen to such violent ways. Spain listened to them speak, kneeling down and resting his forehead on the stone railing of his balcony and closed his eyes to hear them more clearly

"South Italy" was all he heard before he bolted over the balcony and landed roughly in front of them giving them quite a start, he straightened up, turned to them a smiled

"Gracias for the information" he spoke warmly before digging his heels into the dirt and bolted off in the direction of the shore that faced Italy

"Lovi…" he swallowed soundly, his body felt fear and concern wash through it and it only served to help him run faster. He wasn't going to let his tomatito down again.

Romano sat perched on the rumble of a statue of some courtyard in his country, he no longer remembered or cared for such things as his body lay scarred and bruised from the state he had driven his own people to, and yet again he cared little for it, he wanted to hurt, he wanted to dampen the pain that Russia inflicted, the pain of being alone, he wanted it all to stop, so he figured causing as much pain as he could would eventually cause him to go numb, he was praying for it, meeting it with open arms. He was so close to being there, the pain felt like a harsh fire on his skin but it wasn't enough to stop it all.

The Italians were committing acts of random violence; it could be assumed that near the beginning of the events that unfolded they had had a goal. But it was so long ago that the anger they felt towards their ruler had clouded their vision and judgement. Romano looked on with blank eyes, feeling neither shame nor pride he watched his own nation fall around him.

He walked down another unrecognisable street staring at his feet as he walked. He stopped although he didn't understand why, he had not told his feet to stop and yet they had. Looking to his chest, he saw two arms that weren't his own wrapped tightly against his body. He pondered how he had not noticed them before realising the fire on his skin was so intense all he could feel was it and nothing else. He was confused.

"Oh, Lovi! Stop this, you're hurting yourself! Please calm down, don't do this" the silk covered words felt familiar to the boy's ears and after a few seconds the penny dropped and his mind began to process who the invader of his personal space was

"Spain!" He cried out "Let go of me, you tomato bastard." He bucked his head backwards colliding with the man's chin. He heard the familiar whine before he felt the back of his neck nuzzled lovingly. The memory made him melt while his mind made him curse out again.

"But Lovi~ when I heard what you were doing to yourself I was so worried I rushed right over!"

"You bastard, this is all your fault in the first place!" He snapped. Spain grabbed Romano's arm to turn the boy to face him. Romano went red in the face at being this close to Spain's face again

"Que? My fault?"

"You left me all alone, you bastard!" Romano struggled and shook his head trying to pull away from the Spaniard's embrace, with those big, strong arms and…no, stop it Romano! You're not supposed to think like that! Spain, seeing the familiar excitable attitude of the Italian, smiled. Even if he was hurting himself, it was bringing back the Romano he adored with a passion

"I never meant to leave you Romano, but I was kidnapped!" Spain protested, the lump on his head throbbing once more

"Kidnapped? Did you escape?" Romano was confused as he suddenly felt concerned

"Well no…I was let go so I could change" Spain laughed nervously and then winced as another well aimed head butt hit his chest

"You bastard! If they let you go willingly that's not kidnap, that's an invite!" Romano yelled and fought against the older male. Spain's expression dampened as he saw the eyes dilute, painful tears threatened to fall.

"Roma…" he sighed and forced the boy against his chest. Romano felt his cheeks flush and it became harder to stifle the sobs that wanted to escape him "I'm here now and I'll take you away from all this…"

"What?" Romano couldn't believe his ears

"It will involve joining another empire, but it's more a name then anything, and if that bastard tries to stop me doing anything I will kill him" Spain said scarily, a warm smile on his lips. Romano shivered.

"I…I don't know"

"Lovi, I won't let anyone hurt you I promise…I know I said that last time and I broke my promise but I am determined to keep you free this time… I will stake my life on it"

Romano pulled back as the bold proclamation blew him away "You'd give your life for me?" he stuttered a little

Spain nodded and leaning forward pressed his lips to the boy's forehead "It's ok…just leave it to the boss"

Spain brushed Romano's curl, whether it was on purpose or by accident remained uncertain, but he smiled as the boy went bright red and panicked, the curl becoming a heart

"You…you pervert, you know not to do that!" he finally struggled away and shivering a little, he looked at the floor "Stupid…"

Spain approached the boy again and cradled him again but more softly so that Romano had the choice to break it if he wished. When he didn't, it made the Spaniard happy.

"Come on now, let's go"

"By the way…whose empire are you under?"

"Neo British Empire"

"You're fucking kidding me…"

"Believe me Roma, I had the exact same reaction"

* * *

**More Spamano hehe, so next time we will actually be taking a little detour to follow a couple of other countries- who are we following? well they are awesome desu-yo!**


	7. Sealandic crusade

**SO lets carry on taking back the world - hehe me and my friend get such wierd looks because I don't have an atlas at my student accom so we were stood in the middle of WH Smiths to plan this story- we looked like we were literally planning world domination haha- especially when I dismissed an invasion as too short sighted and pointed out taking a different place would be more benaficial to the empire- ah I love my life.**

* * *

England came downstairs and stared, on the sofa he found the Spaniard and the Southern Italian nation nestled quite comfortably. Wrapped in Romano's hand was the south Italian flag with the Union jack sewn on crudely. He sighed and shook his head.

"My empire is multiplying like rabbits….rabbits who I keep making the mistake of turning my back on" He grumbled and walked towards the kitchen. He glanced over the document left on the dining room table. Romano had signed his name as close to the Spaniard's as possible it seemed. He smiled, the Italian truly was dense or stubborn to his own feelings.

When the British man returned with his morning tea, he found Spain had awoken and was covering up the small Italian. It was only now that England noticed the bandaging.

"What happened?" He asked. Spain turned to him and put a finger to his lips before whispering

"You are too loud, Inglaterra…my little Roma has been through a lot so I would prefer it if you kept your voice down."

England nodded, then whispered "Again…what happened?"

"He…he went a little crazy…being left alone with Russia…when I found him he had done so much damage to himself, it was heart breaking, and bringing him here at least lets me know he is safe..." he looked at England, expecting him to object.

"Fine, but he'd better pull his weight" was all the Englishman said as he drank from his teacup.

Spain smiled before sitting next to the sofa, watching Lovino's breathing "I give my life to you…my sweet little angel…"

Unbeknownst to them, a small blond boy in a sailor suit was running across the vast space of the Underground known as London. He was worried. Worried for the safety of a dear friend. He ran faster as the thought of his friend in peril pricked his eyes with tears and made him angry within.

Sealand was a nation now…and he was going to make sure he showed the jerk exactly what he could do. As he left the Underground and fell into the sunlight of the above world he became blinded but kept running until his eyes adjusted to the light.

"I'm coming" he smiled "I'm gonna save you because that is what nations do!"

-**-Take back the world-**-

A vase broke.

"Брат there was no need for that"

"Oh yes there was! It was totally unawesome!" the voice sounded angry as he turned and flipped the table scattering the contents on top everywhere.

"Why the hell are you taking your anger out on our furniture?"

"Our furniture? OUR furniture!" The red eyes flashed with pure white hot rage "This is HIS fucking crap, it's all FUCKING RUSSIAN crap and I won't take it!" and with that he bore a pen knife into the painting on the wall. Germany stood and watched his brother raged at the world built around them. He understood why his brother was mad, how this depressed him so, but he had to learn to accept the rough hand fate had given them. He rushed forward, roughly grabbing the Albino's arms and threw him to the ground pinning him there.

"Stop this Брат, you are only going to get yourself in more trouble!"

"Like I give a fuck!" he squirmed and tried to get away from the blond on top of him. The years had not been that kind and now the younger of the two easily surpassed the elder when it came to strength. It seemed the east's strongest point came to be in spirit. Refusing to take orders from anyone but himself, he fought within his rusted cage while watching the other bird's drop from their perches and bow before the cat for fear of being eaten. Even now the man looked towards the window and saw the light of day and scrambled for it. Germany held him fast, so the man below resorted to spitting in his brother's face.

"I don't like it, you know!" Germany wiped the spit from his eyes "I watch nations get beaten because of disobedience and now I am scared it will happen to you!"

"Well, bring it on! The awesome me will never bow to Russian feet again!" this time his attempts to escape allowed him to free his arm, so he used it to connect with the blonde's jaw and sent him rolling backwards, releasing him completely.

"Our country is under his rule and our people have learned to accept their fate."

"And yet I still rebel…you forget I am this country too now, remember?" he laughed "So if I am rebelling then so is the country."

"It will not be enough and you know it."

"Then let's rebel!"

"I can't do that…" Images of the terrified Italian as he was dragged away filled his mind. He couldn't leave him alone.

"Then I am afraid I will just have to tear up everything Russia related in our fair country!"

"I won't allow it" Germany felt himself shake at fear for what Russia would do.

"Then I am sorry West, I will have to take you down too!"

The people in Germany began to murmur. Opinions finally voiced between those happy under the Russian rule and those opposed to it. Two brothers. Two sides. Two visions of a future. Those voices were becoming louder as they tried to outdo each other, cracks forming in the fragile glass bond of the brothers. Finally the bird slipped from its perch and fell towards the cold unforgiving ground.

"Do you want the Berlin wall to happen again!" he raised his voice to the Albino who smirked.

"I'll gladly lay the first brick!"

-**-Take back the world-**-

Laying low in the boat he had nestled in he closed his eyes and felt the motion of the boat. He was nearly there.

As soon as the boat docked on the shore, the boy leapt from his hiding place, much to the surprise of the crew, and he bolted across the hard ground, knowing his way quite well until he came across a house. He looked around for signs of life and upon spotting some, ran up to the front door and proceeded to bash at it unmercifully, once again forgetting his own strength. A small boy opened the door; he went wide eyed in terror and all the colour drained from his face.

"Sealand? Что вы здесь делаете?" He asked, trying to grasp at the unknown absurdity of the boy's arrival.

"Latvia…you know I never learned Russian…can't you speak in English?" Sealand asked.

It was true. Since Sealand had little need to see other nations in meetings and such where language barriers are key; he had no need to learn Russian, even if he could hear the jerk's voice ringing in his ears about how it's always polite to talk to someone in their native language. Then he realised he probably should have listened.

"Я не могу говорить с вами на английском языке! Теперь заблудиться, прежде чем мы как попасть в беду!" The boy screamed, terrified for his friend's safety, he gave him a push from the doorway and slammed the door, leaving the boy confused.

Sealand sighed and turned away from the door, only to walk straight into another person.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" he jumped back and looked up to find a familiar scowl towering over him.

"Sweden…" Sealand gasped as the tall silent man removed his coat and threw it on top of the boy, throwing his world into darkness.

Sealand felt himself get carried a long long way, unsure of what was going on but he knew he was scared. Sweden had picked him up without a word and now who knew where they were going.

When the coat was removed, he was in a familiar room. Sweden left him and locked the door. Which was strange, Sealand couldn't understand why the nation would lock the boy in his own room. He glanced around at the dusty place; they obviously hadn't been in here since Russia took over. Sealand's eyes however fell to the chair at his desk; both had been used, so that threw that theory out the window.

He did not know, but it had been Finland who came to this room, and sat at the desk. It was his little place away from Russia. An inkling of the past he longed to go back to.

Sealand jumped as he heard a shriek and then hurried footsteps. The door handle turned.

"Почему вы запереть дверь?"

"Так он не убежал"

"Зачем ему бежать?"

There was silence as the door was opened and Finland burst in the room and scooped up the boy, smothering him as if he was scared the boy would vanish before his eyes.

Sweden appeared and the two began conversing in a harsh tone that was riddled with fear. Sealand was confused.

"I still can't understand you…" Sealand spoke catching Finland's attention, who tilted his head.

Sealand panicked at the blank stare so switched to a language he believed he knew.

"En ymmärrä mitä sanot" Sealand looked up at the nation who held him, with hopeful eyes.

Finland blinked a few times then broke down in tears and pulled Sealand into his embrace once more. It broke his heart that they could not communicate, not even in the language he was supposed to call his own.

"Я не позволю ему получить вы" was all he spoke, leaving Sealand completely confused but suddenly terrified.

* * *

**And thus we are done hehe**- **gah i really need to stop planning fics in my head...i have so many wierd ones- oh plus the new roleplay site I set up which crosses Hetalia with The Dreaming a little- If people are intrested I'll provide link**

Again translation are from the wonderful source of google translator woooo for the accuracy haha- correction appreciated

**Brother- Брат**

**Sealand? What are you doing here- Sealand? Что вы здесь делаете?**

**No I can't speak English! Now get lost before we both get into trouble!- Я не могу говорить с вами на английском языке! Теперь заблудиться, прежде чем мы как попасть в беду!**

**Why did you lock the door?- Почему вы запереть дверь?**

**So he did not run off- Так он не убежал**

**Why would he run? - Зачем ему бежать?**

**I do not understand what you say- En ymmärrä mitä sanot (finnish)  
**

**I won't let him get you- Я не позволю ему получить вы**


	8. All can fight if there is hope

**I am so happy with some of the reviews I got recently so I actually got this chapter out early hehe yay! although it took a back seat because during our heatwave for some unknown reason (in sheffield at least) it started hailing! and I have a attic room so i could hear every bal of ice- and then lighting! oh my god i was shaking! but better now hehe**

* * *

The small curl bobbed. Staring at his phone as he sat in the chair in the living area once again, knees to his chest, head on his knees. He was lonely it had to be said. The room was empty as the nations tended to stick to one room above all others; it meant you knew where to hide. It meant you had some form of territory even if it was a dining room chair.

Flipping open the phone again, he clicked through the contacts until it illuminated the name of the scowling blond German. Hovering his finger over the call button he sighed. He said he would call him, he said he would let him know he got home ok. Should he call him?

Shutting the phone, he let out a sigh riddled with worry.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Hungary appeared in the doorway, holding a tray that contained a tea set. Strolling over and setting it down on the table next to Italy, the boy looked up at the warming face of the woman. Somehow she had managed to keep her calm and sanity while the rest of the nations were thrown into havoc and confusion. He nodded slowly and stared back at his phone. She smiled sadly at the boy and kneeling by the chair, embraced the Italian. He made a small whimpers and gripped his phone. "He is OK, you know that"

"Oh I know…I just wished he'd call soon"

Feeling his heart ache he snuggled into his chair and force himself into sleep. Feeling his heart ache, the other brother awoken from his unwanted sleep.

"What…" he croaked out, his throat felt like sandpaper and as he moved he found it was slow and sluggish. He looked around, trying hard to recognise his surroundings. He found it strange he didn't feel worried. In fact he could feel anything. His eyes half lidded and swirling in dizziness, a smile pricking his face. This was the numbness he was craving, his body finally allowing him the pleasure of feeling nothing. He didn't even jump when a hand cupped his cheek and turned him towards the hand's owner. The natural override of his body made him distant from the world

"Romano? Romano, can you hear me?"

Romano laughed a little and he didn't know why, numbness had a wonderful way of making the world better "Hi Spain~"

Spain blinked at the strange outburst of the nation in front of him. Was he drugged up?

"Romano…are you feeling OK?"

"Ah si, si…." He rocked a little in place "I am no longer in pain…its wonderful"

Spain smiled "Well, I guess that is good…let's go get you some food, OK?"

Romano nodded. Spain got up and looked at Romano as he stood up. He had only turned his back for a second when he heard a crash. Spinning in place he found the Italian sprawled out over the table

"Ah! Oh, Roma!" He scooped up the boy, who looked at him with blank eyes "Didn't that hurt?"

"No!" Romano smiled falling limp in the Spaniard's arms "Can't feel a thing~"

"You're numb?" Spain blinked in confusion and worry as the Italian nodded, smiling. Spain looked perplexed as he sat the boy back on the sofa. "Why are you numb?"

Romano went to answer but ended up giggling.

"The lad is probably recovering" Spain spun to see the female of the Kirkland family carving at a random piece of wood "From what I heard, he fucked up his place pretty bad so his body is going to be blistered and beaten" she tossed the wood on the table. Spain walked over to her

"So why is he numb?" he asked confused following her as she proceeded to search through her brother's belongings to find her next victim.

"It's a natural body reaction; the body goes numb because of a toxin the body produces to help combat the pain so you can get on with life a bit more. The amount of punishment that boy took…he's a little high on the stuff."

Spain blinked "Oh…so it's a good thing?"

"Well yes…" she turned and blinked then stifled a laugh "And no."

Spain turned his head to see why she was laughing and suddenly went wide eyed in horror

"France, you get the fuck away from him right now!" He growled launching himself at the blond who had managed to convince the boy to make out with him. Blood was spilt

England could have saved the Frenchman, but instead chose to watch.

-**-Take back the world-**-

America sighed and rocked in place on his chair. Glancing out the window every so often, hoping to see change but all he saw was dark clouds and rain. He shook his head and gripped the object in his hand. He felt ashamed. He had gone in being the hero for his friend and the next he knew, he was surrounded. It all happened so fast he didn't even realise what had happened till that bloody Russian was standing over him as he knelt on the floor wounded; the barrel of a gun to the skin on the back of his neck. Grinning like a madman and laughing, mocking the states he treasured so much.

Growling, he clenched his fist tighter and looked down at his uniform, Russia had gone out of his way to plaster the Russian flag all over the young nation's body. He bit his tongue as he listened to the radio playing in the background. Every word was Russian and brought the taste of blood to his mouth, a constant reminder of the lives lost trying to free others while failing to free himself. The horrible taste was always there, no break, he had forgotten every single word, every piece of slang, he remembered the weeks he spent trying to hold onto them, the amount of time he scrawled it on the walls, defacing everything within his reach but alas, even now if he did happen across the words, they were foreign and unrecognisable. He shuddered as he fought back the sobs. He had locked himself from the world. He had no idea of the fight occurring, or at least he wouldn't until Russia needed him to. Uncoiling his fist he smiled at the contents.

He held a small badge, something he happened across by accident while in the white house when he was told to report to his Russian supervisor. He was supposed to destroy all sort of this kind of stuff but it brought him a small memory of meetings between his country and another. The badge was of two flags, their mast crossed over. On the left was the flag of the United States, on the right was the flag of the United Kingdom. As a smile graced his lips at the memory of his father/brother, he never noticed the sun break through the clouds for the first time in weeks.

-**-Take Back the World—**

He wrapped his hands in rags of his clothing, preparing the young unblemished skin for a lashing of international war. Nothing but his hatred for his sister had driven him to such fighting before and even then it never left the borders of their shores. Their differences were only ever seen by his brother, who was always there for him when times got tough and he needed to escape.

At his feet lay his gun, barely used and he never imagined he would ever use it. Looking up he saw the girl leaning against the doorframe staring at him. Judging him. However unlike other times where they would have tried to rip the other's throats out, the isolation took away the need it seemed. He began to fumble at the wrappings again, his hair drooping over his face as he could quite get the knot.

Suddenly more feminine hands appeared in his view. He blinked as his vision was filled by his sister knelt in front of him

"You can never do anything by yourself…" she muttered as she tied the bonds tight "Now, come on…we leave in 10 and I won't hesitate to leave without you"

He stared at the knot for a while trying to figure out the catch, the ulterior motive to helping him. She never was that nice. He began to imagine the band coming undone in battle, taking hold of his weapon and binding him to it and then slowly choking him. He decided his mind was being a little silly, so laughed it off and got up, shouldering the rifle and leaving his room and headed downstairs where all four of his siblings were waiting. Without hesitations he snuggled closer to the blond haired, bushy eyebrowed nation who laughed and patted his head. The small boy listened closely as they discussed the plan to defend the new borders of the empire. He was ready to show them all what he could do despite his young age.

Northern Ireland was ready to fight

* * *

**Go Northern Ireland! and Ameirca makes an appearance I hope this was OK now to go write other fanfics!**


	9. Tensions rising

**I heard that people really wanted this story updating and I am touched- well I want to ask the readers to review and let me know- which country would you like me to focus on next?**

**Also more Sealand adventures next chapter**

* * *

He had to laugh at the sight. It had truly never crossed his mind how backwards the country had become.

"What are you bloody laughing for frog?" the disgruntled voice asked, eyes narrow as he eyed the man at the door with suspicion

"Why don't you try using a tin opener Angleterre?" the Frenchman raised an eyebrow as the nation before him attempted to open a tin with his knife. England blushed red and looked away playing idly with the knife in his hands

"I don't feel like it ok…I want to use the knife"

France rolled his eyes and wandered over "You're not that stupid Angleterre, even you know that's dangerous "

"Says the guy who took advantage of a boy" he laughed and prodded at the large purple black wound on his cheek, France hissed and brushed the hand away

"Angleterre please use the tin opener, prove at least that you aren't that primitive are you?"

Again the younger nation avoided his gaze.

"You do remember how to use one?"

"Of course I do!" the pale skin turned deep red as the blood rushed to his cheeks " I just want to use the knife!" and with that he sliced off the top in one clean swipe growling under his breath. France smiled and snaked his arms around the male's waist causing a small squeak in response.

"Don't have to be so proud mon lapin…I can re-teach you" he purred into the man's ear causing the others body to shiver

"I…I don't need your help!" he stuttered gripping onto the side. There was something else he hadn't had in two years. But he refused to let the bloody frog know that.

"Such hesitation…Angleterre…are you missing out on something?" he asked a devilish grin across his lips

"What the hell could I be missing" England protested trying to squirm away but France held him fast. France let out a laughed and leant his head onto the man's shoulder and began to lay kisses gently on England's neck, smiling to himself as he felt the other body subdue and allow itself to be overcome with desire. England snapped back into reality "S-stop it! God you really are one track minded" He swung his arm round and the elbow collided with France's face. His hissed and stumbled backwards and England brought the knife up "Get your mind out of the gutter you git!"

"Not that you're complaining mon cher" France laughed motioning lower. England paled looked down and then went bright red

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"Ah but it does…you want it, you're just too stubborn to let your body have its fun"

"Shut up! I only came here to eat before I go out to battle, I have no time for games"

"Too bad I do"

-take back the world—

The days passed slowly and sometimes people questioned if they had passed at all. Down in The Underground known as London this was more than usual as the light barely passed through the soil above. There was a small courtyard, nothing particularly special about it, just a plain dirt courtyard which a handful of children had decided to inhabit and play in. The young Italian watched with curious eyes, the games they played were based on the world above, of farming and driving around and other modern things, like they were some foolish made up fairytale.

"This place is fucking weird…" Still a little tipsy from the numbed feeling Romano was slowly coming into the real world. Next to him the Spaniard was snoozing away. For the first time in a while Romano decided to let him take his siesta. Romano wanted to join him but the toxin that had surged to rob him of pain made him a little giddy and full of energy and yet not enough to allow him much movement. He wanted to run but couldn't get his legs to support his weight. It was most frustrating.

"Just great…just fucking great…" he moaned lightly hitting his leg and receiving a dull pain in return. He began to wonder about this place, it truly was a whole different world to the one outside, he fidgeted as he felt strange, he felt something he hadn't felt in years but he didn't mind. He felt safe. It was then that his thoughts flickered to his brother and his face fell, if he could he would bring him here but he knew there was something flawed with that plan

"He won't go anywhere without that potato sucking bastard"

Germany sneezed. He growled and leant back in his office chair, was he getting a cold? Well it would make sense since his country appears to be in turmoil. Could he even call it his own country anymore? Slowly he got up and the only sound he heard was the squeaking of the old chair he sat in, everything was going wrong… well wrong-er if that was even possible but he hadn't spoken to his brother in days and he was beginning to fear the worst. There was a small plinking noise. Turning he discovered the source of the noise was in fact his own window. He drew back the curtain just as another small pebble bounce off of the fragile glass pane. Watching the pebble fall the blue eyes met red. Prussia stood there in the middle of the street another pebble in hand, tossing it playfully, but with a look of pure seriousness plastered on his face. It seemed the ex-nation of fighting, wanting to talk. That could never be considered a good thing

-Take back the world—

The child now had blood stained hands, but the blood of a country far from his own. It was a new experience, this battle was far more hurtful then anything he had seen or done before. Following his sister's lead the two siblings rushed along the land that marked the border between Belgium and France. Northern Ireland moved quickly being a small child and was able to move around defences easily.

"Ah you're nothing but a bunch a wusses" he heard his sister taunt as the soldiers lined up blocking her path. He reached for his belt, ripped out the pin with his teeth and launched the small object at the men. It hit one on the head and they all stared at the foreign item before panicking and running for shelter, the explosion was spectacular and the flames pushed high into the air. He gasped, the bright orange was captivating, his heart racing with adrenaline as the battle seemed to rage on never ending. Suddenly the flames seemed the crackle and expel the woman, her hair matching the fire that you could have mistaken the woman to be made of fire. Spotting her brother she grabbed him roughly and pulled him along

"Don't get side tracked! That's how you get killed!" she growled. He nodded and quickened his pace to follow that of his sister's footsteps though the battle field.

"Sister!" he cried as he spotted something on the horizon. She turned to see him motion to a male and female dressed in the uniform of the Russian empire.

The female had short blonde hair tied back in a ribbon and her eyes were green, the male also had blond hair that seemed to defy gravity, eyes of a paler emerald. They carried weapons and upon spotting the nations they seemed reluctant but carried on towards them

"Looks like we have a fight…you ready Northern?" she quested pulling the binding on her hands tighter with her teeth. He nodded and swallowed hard trying to suppress any fear he had as the two approached.

-take back the world—

"You sir… are a git" the man heaved buried his head deeper into the pillow, an arm snaked over his waist and yanked him into the body next to him nuzzling his neck and kissing him gently.

"Still not forgiven you…I should be out there fighting"

The man purred and let his hand's wander feeling England shiver against him

"Come now Angleterre even you can admit that now you let off steam all that stress is gone"

The lack of response made him chuckle, the blush on the man's face made him seem more attractive, more desirable. Although he had to admit it was hard to get much more attractive in his eyes and the man's wild nature surely made it memorable

"Ok now I really really have to go!" he scrambled out of the Frenchman's grip who with a whimper obeyed and removed his arms from the man as he scurried away.

"Ah Angleterre I know you need to get away but you need to remember-"

"Gah! Put some clothes on you tea sucking bastard!"

France couldn't help but feel sorry for the nation. England was suddenly eager back into bed with France hiding under the covers as he knew of his impending doom.

"You're in a war Angleterre and you're afraid of Romano?" France asked

"No but I don't want to face Spain when he finds out I flashed his little Lovinito!" England declared from his so called hiding place.

"Ah…I see that could be quite painful mon cheri"

* * *

**SO some implied FrUK for you... woooooo remember to review **


	10. Rebirth of a Nation is AWESOME!

**Hey sorry it's a little late again. I lost inspiration and when I finally found it some brat sat next to me and critised everything after i was decent enough to tell him what I was planning, he did nothing but tell me over and over that I should make Romano kill himself because " everyone will be happy that he is gone", I ended up accidently stealing his money dragging him out into the garden by his leg and throwing his shoe in the padling pool... you try writting a story for 3 hours with someone like that next to you!**

**I know alot of people were disappointed I put in FrUk but I support both USUK and FRUK- I like vs even more- If you want USUK go read Fairies and Families because that has it...in this the bond between England and America is brotherly nothing more**  
**Also this was Beta'd by my friend** **ms. kona because my normal beta has a virus on her comp. She helped me alot! 3 thank you my dear**

* * *

There was a clash of guns and pain as the two parties collided furiously over the ever churned mud. It was pure hysteria as the meaningless war raged on causing nothing but despair and bloodshed.

"I don't want to do this…" The blond woman spoke tears in her eyes. "I don't want to fight these people…"

"We have our orders," the male responded, regret in his voice. "Бельгия (Belgium) we must press forward."He cocked his gun

"Ok brother…" She swallowed and shakily moved closer to him.

Russia had had enough of this so called new empire; The British Neo Empire was a splinter in his finger which, although he thought he could deal with now, needed to be removed as it was starting to infect.

It was causing all sorts of chaos; nations were being invaded and seized, beaten by a miserable cluster of forgotten lands, lands he wished he now owned. He hadn't expected the Italian to have a break down and cause wide spread rioting, but now thanks to the reformed Spain half of Italy was now independent and fighting against him. His violet eyes flashed in anger, he was prepared to drag back the rebellious nations… and he would punish them till they had no more thoughts of freedom and rebellion ever again. There was another problem he was facing. The resistance movement occurring in Germany at the time, they were fleas intermingling with the good little residents, the ones who did as they were told, the fleas were multiplying and he knew he had to squash them quickly. A thin, dagger sharp smile graced his lips as he wrote down the orders to make them personal. The rebellious East must be crushed.

"Come on girly," the flaming red head taunted, "or is all you're good for is chocolate making." She lunged forward and thrust her gun towards Belgium who let out a squeak; the clashing of another weapon caused the Irish girl to fall over herself. The Netherlands rushed forward after catching her by surprise. She growled and, grabbing her knee, swished it violently out in an arc shape catching his stomach and slicing cleaning through cloth and flesh, watching victoriously as the red slowly crept along the cloth. The man grasped the wound and shuddered wincing and biting his tongue to hold back any noise of pain refusing to give his enemy the satisfaction. Another pain ripped through his leg as the younger red head shot it, disabling his ability to charge. The boy was shaking uncontrollably with fear at the taller nation, he could not believe he had done that and yet the evidence was clear in the reddening mess. Belgium let out a scream and pointed her gun at the female

"You'll pay for hurting my brother!"

The sound split through the air, shattering it as the trigger was pulled

-Take Back the World-

Sealand wasn't sure what was happening. Sweden was holding him close and slowly moving him through the house. Every time he went to speak the stern nation clamped his hand over the mouth to silence the young male. It was when he heard the chattering downstairs that he knew what was wrong.

There were two voices, one he knew as Finland, the other, sweet covered and cut into the soul forcing a shiver out; Russia was visiting.

"Я слышал, что небольшая микро нации возглавлял этот способ несколько дней идут ..." (I heard that a small micro nation was headed this way a few days go ...)

He could hear the fear in Finland's voice as he tried to stay strong.

"что? Есть не микро стран здесь ..." (what? There is no micro countries here ...) he stuttered.

The voices were lowered as the conversation continued. The small nation huddled to the larger one suddenly afraid.

"... так Sealand является народ сейчас? Интересная ... это может оказаться полезным, чтобы убедить этого мальчика, чтобы дело мое" (... Sealand as a nation now? Interesting ... it may be useful to persuade the boy to my cause)

"ШВЕЦИЯ бежать!" (SWEDEN run!)

Next thing Sealand knew they were jumping from the second story window.

Suddenly they were sprinting, the dark presence pricked at the hairs on the back of their necks, the looming aura of death and destruction clipping at their heels. The Russian was chasing them. Sweden swallowed hard, gritting his teeth and trying to keep his mind from his wife who he had had to leave behind. When they hit the ocean, the tall nation stopped and looked around in a panic. He could practically hear the Russian chuckling at the trapped rats. Spying a boat he lowered the small frightened child in and, smiling a little, petted his head and kissed his cheek.

"Посмотрите друг за другом" (Look after each other) he spoke and placed a bag on Sealand's lap, the boy holding back tears as the boat slowly began to pull away. He watched as the tall nation shrunk on the horizon. As they began to fall from view, he saw the Russian had finally caught up, a look of annoyance and death in his eyes, a blood stained pipe in his hand.

Sealand gripped the bag on his lap, tears soaking the fabric when a yelp snapped him into reality and a small fluffy white dog's head popped out licking at the tears that fell.

-Take Back the World-

France was on the move as well, boarding boats with his soldiers he prepared to sail to help his friend. England hearing of his plan ran after him onto the dock panting hard as he coiled over exhausted

"FROG!" he yelled cursing his timing as the boats sailed away. "You bloody git, get back here!"

"Sorry mon lapin…" France whispered watching from the ship "I have to go…"

It was the German's turn to face chaos, pushed into breaking point, the rebels and the supporters took to the streets in a blaze of guns and fire. Germany rushed through a nameless street as a bomb exploded somewhere to the right of him, throwing him into a concrete wall which crumbled onto him. Growling he picked himself up, racked with wounds he continued on looking for the red eyed rebel.

"In coming!" was the only warning he got as he had to dodge a sword wielding albino diving from above. "Found you!" he laughed lunging at the blond who dodged and punched the man in the face. He growled and brought the blade up to the man's neck. "Don't have to fight me you know…"

"I have to…I have orders…" He gripped the gun.

"You don't have to do anything! What reason could you possibly have to obey that idiot!"

Growling he swung the gun and bashed the rapier out the way.

"I won't leave him alone!" he yelled charging.

The scene of war was frightening. Many families had fled in fear and the streets lay empty. Feet pounding the broken concrete and cobble, the blond sea fort kept his eyes to the floor as he thundered through the chaos, Hanatamago at his heel, as they traversed Germany. After the boat had landed, Sealand was so overtaken in terror at the destruction of the land, his feet moved on their own- all he had to do was get to France but every time he was on the right path, it blew up or had a tank in it or riots. So he just kept running south trying to find a way west. The troops never seemed to notice the small lad as he continued on his trek through the blaze.

The personifications were locked in a deadly dance as they tore at each other's bodies. The East's fire was not extinguished as each injury his sustained did not affect the damage he inflicted with his blows. However the younger of the two, was a little smarter. Bring a boot up to the albino's chest; he threw his weight into the kick to knock his brother to the ground, pushing down on the others chest.

"You have lost, sorry…but I have to do this…" he raised his gun, panting, finger edging on the trigger.

The red eyes narrowed "I go down proud"

The gun shot rang out. Sealand felt his heart sink so much, he never looked where he was going and soon he was tumbling. When the world stopped spinning, he was staring at the ceiling. It felt different here, so he was no longer in Germany. The boy just wanted rest. The dog barked at the approach of another and when Sealand looked up, a young girl in a pink dress was smiling at him.

Germany hit the ground hard, East let out a scream…a manly scream… but that is beside the point. The French man reloaded his gun

"You shot my bruder!" The albino yelled

"With a bean bag." France laughed, "He's just a little winded." Calming down and straightening up, the Albino turned to his brother as the man sat up.

"West… I refuse to do this anymore… Germany should not tear itself up like this…"

France knew the meaning behind these words "Mon ami… I will support you…"

Prussia nodded pulling something from inside his jacket "I have had this for centuries…"

"What are you doing?" Germany asked coughing

"The people of East Germany have spoken…." He spat refusing any Russian words to part his lips. Branding the familiar black and white, he smirked.

"Arising like the awesome phoenix I am! We are now New Prussia!"

"There is already a city called New Prussia in Canada," France laughed. Prussia glared at him as he back away from the gaze "We can find another name don't worry."

"You think I will allow this?" Germany groaned as the troops were approaching the area. France growled.

"Prussia…mon ami… I think it's time we took our leave."

"ja… But don't worry west! I will return for you little brother!"

-Take Back The World-

Ireland let out a shout and she moved forward, grasping the wound that poured blood from the small nation's chest.

Netherlands turned and saw his sister drop her gun, frozen to the spot. Limping over he looked back.

"Let's go…retreat for today." He slowly dragged her away as tears fell down her face.

In her mind, she had not just hit a nation in the chest with a bullet, she just hit a little boy…and he was bleeding too much.

The pleading cries of his sister, rippled through the air like a wave.

-Take Back The World-

"So you went to Germany…to liberate him?" England asked sipping his tea eyeing the Albino who was smiling like an idiot sat proudly on the man's sofa. "And his name is what now?"

"My awesome name is!" he yelled flying his union jack marked flag "New New Prussia because Canada already has a place called New Prussia!"

France laughed and England groaned

"Can we call you Prussia for short?"

"I will allow it!" Prussia laughed and walked away. "Now show me to food! The awesome me demands feeding!"

* * *

**So there we have it...I know alot of you thought it was switzerland and liechenstein but...they don't have a border with France so they couldn't have been there...they are about to appear and people might hate me for what I am going to do.**


	11. The Brotherly instinct

**Hey I have completed a new chapter. I finally moved form my old house and soon I will be in the new house and having my cosplay house warming party eeeee so excited. erm... this might get a little dark for some people so I am sorry**

* * *

Sealand sat on the overly comfy sofa of the large overly enchanting house. He fidgeted and looked at his feet most of the time. She spoke fluent Russia just like everyone else; it bugged him so much that he couldn't understand anything the people were saying. All he knew how to speak was English, Swedish, Finnish and slight German (being invaded had its advantages sometimes apparently). His head shot up as the door opened and the young blonde haired maiden entered the room gracefully carrying in a tray with tea set on it, her dress flowing a little as she walked over and placed the tray onto the small coffee table, the small cute smile on her face as she sat next to him. She had figured out quite quickly that he could not understand her so she broached the language barrier with a drawing pad and pointing.

Pointing to the teapot Sealand nodded and she slowly poured the water into the cup that had a small teabag in it, she filled the cup half way and then pointed to the milk and sugar. Trying to be helpful Sealand poured the milk and added the sugar and watched her prepare her own, she smiled at him again and he smiled back, the two drinking tea in near silence as there was the slight sound of music from the CD player on the air perfuming the air with classical strings. Sealand had to admit it was one of the most calming yet unnervingly uncomfortable moments of his life. But it beat being chased across the country by Russia. The girl seemed delighted with the new company, she sighed and traced the Russian flag on her dress, her brother had actually kicked up a fuss when he tried to dress her in black.

There was suddenly a lot of noise outside the room. Liechtenstein put her cup down and, getting to her feet, curtseyed to Sealand to be polite before making off in a light run through the door and down the hall. Sealand let out a nervous laugh and knocked back the rest of the tea placing it back on the tray. He had a feeling he would leaving soon.

-Take Back The World-

"So…you're feeling ok?" the curl bounced as he huddled over the blonde.

"I'll get over it…I just wished he had never left…it's a little lonely" Germany sighed feeling a lot of comfort from Italy at this point, they had both lost family to liberation…

"Erm …Германия, maybe we should you know… go after them" Italy pouted and then squeaked as Germany clamped his hand onto the one the Italian had put on the shoulder. He looked over to the door and sighed.

"You can't say things like that…not here" he spoke in a whisper and slowly rubbed his thumb to the back of Italy's hand "I don't want you getting hurt."

Italy blushed at this and smiled leaning onto the man "It will be ok right?"

"Yeah…it will. One way or another."

The brunette left Germany alone with his thoughts as he began to walk along the hallways of the Russian home, sighing as he noticed the steps seemed to echo more as the place emptied more and more. He almost hit the roof when his phone went off; nearly dropping it he brought it to eye level. He went wide eyed. Lovino was calling him? Now? Why? Looking around he dashed off to the kitchen to find a place to hide while he took the call. It had to be important after all right?

-Take Back The World-

It was silent as usual; the reserved man sat reading a book from the library his brother had created in the home. He listened to the slight buzz of chatter that was become louder and louder as the number of residents increased. He had to admit he was a little bored.

"Wales… Are you sure you are ok with this next advancement?" England asked approaching slowly, placing a tea cup by his brother who nodded and raised the porcelain cup to his lips taking a long sip of the brew inside.

"Yes I am sure…" he let out a small laugh and drank a bit more "They aren't that scary."

England let out a nervous laugh and slowly sat next to him drinking his own tea "I guess you were the only one not to have any problems with them…" he looked down at the text being read by the blond "Never judge a book by its cover after all."

He laughed and petted his brother on the head and then finishing the cup rose from the table "Thanks for the tea but now I am off."

With that the blond shouldered his gun and strolled from the house passing the Albino in the doorway.

"Yo eyebrows there you are"

England groaned and felt the irritable man draw close "What is it Prussia?" he leant onto his hand raising one of his eyebrows. Prussia circled round the table and entered the kitchen. England sighed and watched the man stalk into the next room and after a few moments and a lot of noise return with a gin bottle and two glasses

"I want to celebrate getting the fuck away from Russia and YOU are going to celebrate with me" he laughed and poured the amber liquid into the glasses before knocking his back. England stared at him and wondered what on earth was going through his head but slowly sipped at the alcohol hoping he wouldn't be stone drunk when the Prussian was.

-Take Back The World-

"I am just saying!"

"No you are not fucking saying anything logical because if you were you would be on your way here Idioto!"

"I can't come brother…I am sorry."

Then was a hitch of breath then a long exhale.

"Never tell anyone I said this but…I am scared for you Veneciano…I really am and I would feel a fucking hell of a lot better if you were here where I could see you…"

"I know… but with everything that has happened-"

"That snow loving bastard is more likely to take it out on you…"

Italy sighed and slowly took in what his brother was saying. He could hear Romano's voice cracking slightly. He opened his mouth and wanted to tell his brother everything was fine but he couldn't.

"I know brother…I…I am…a little scared."

Romano let out a breath and gripped his hair with his free hand "Come meet me at the border between North and South ok? I just want to see you again…"

"…Ok…I will be there soon."

"I look forward to it."

Romano hung up the phone and wiped his eyes…not that he was crying… he was a little happier now, at least face to face Veneciano might come home. Pulling on his jacket he ran down the stairs only stopping momentarily to see England and the bad touch trio downing whiskey and god knows what else in shot glasses. He grumbled and headed out the door, it's not like they would even notice his way gone in their state.

-Take Back The World-

The door burst open and Sealand let out a scream as an intimidating man with a rifle appearred and stormed over to him, growling and glaring holes in the boy's skin.

"Switzerland…" he swallowed.

"Пошел вон!" he yelled pumping the gun to load it. Sealand dived away from the sofa and attempted to escape when Liechtenstein grabbed his wrist and stood in front of him.

"Не делай этого брата! Он приехал сюда через Германию он нуждается в помощи добраться домой!"

"Лихтенштейна, он враг, и мы должны избавиться от него!"

Sealand shuddered as he listened to the two argue. Until Switzerland said something he shouldn't have.

"Что вы знаете вы просто глупо маленькая девочка!"

The younger sister stopped, her breath hitched and she bit her lip tears forming in her eyes, she turned and began to dragged Sealand away, Hanatamago ran after them barking, believing it all to be a game. The boy wondered what was going on as he was pulled from the room and away from the voice that called back at them. His lip trembled but he eventually asked.

"Are you ok?" he wondered why he was asking it's not like she could answer him after all

"Yes…" she answered smiling at him as tears ran down her face "But for now…we should go…"

A little dumbfounded over what had just happened, Sealand followed the girl as she led him away.

-Take Back The World-

The Chinese man walked along the hallway and was met by Japan who glanced over and offered a weak smile.

"How is he?" China asked slowly turning to a plain white door. The raven haired male mulled over his thoughts before speaking.

"The same as always Китай… but he ate some food today so that is always good."

China nodded and gripped the book in his hands "I am going to spend some time with him today…I'll call if I need you ok?" he handed his phone to Japan "If he calls…let me know…"

Bowing a little, Japan returned to a small window seat nearby and looked out onto the horizon.

Upon opening the door he heard a whimper as the light pierced into the darker room. It was a plain room, white walls and cream carpet, there were a lot of soft toys littered all over the floor and a large double bed in the centre of the room on the back wall with a small bed side table next to it with a small lamp on it. The lamp dimming lit the room a soft amber glow. On the bed huddled up and dressed in soft clothing was a man with raven coloured short hair. China smiled a sad smile.

"Who's there?" he asked sitting up, revealing his bandaged eyes.

"It's just me Гонконг" China shuffled onto the bed slowly so that Hong Kong wouldn't be spooked.

"You haven't come and visited in a while" he muttered, a little nervous. He touched the bandages gently.

"I came to read to you if you'll let me…" China spoke, giving the man's shoulder a gentle squeeze "I promise Россия is not here."

At the mention of Russia Hong Kong tensed up, China could feel him shake a little and all he wanted to do was comfort him. He had been through so much because of his own rebellion against the Russian oppressor. He bit his lip as he remembered it.

"No! NO! Let him go let him go right now aru!" the ponytailed nation roared, rushing after Russia as he held a bloody and beaten Hong Kong who was shivering. Hong Kong looked up at Russia and knew he had no energy to do anything; he was completely at the man's mercy. The larger male dropped him to the floor and sat on him.

"You need to be taught a lesson my dear China…and then you will become one with me."

Suddenly there was blood spilling everywhere and Hong Kong's screaming choked the air around them. China watched out in horror as the psychotic nation dug his fingers into the sockets. The rest of the memory was begging and pleading and holding a blood covered male in his arms, blind and paralysed. The blood covered scarf walking away large white fangs smiling in triumph.

Hong Kong lay down next to China, over the years the personification had slowly gone from almost completely mute to at least moving around a little. He had become traumatised and Russia's strong hold over Hong Kong had gotten stronger, constantly feeling the man under his skin didn't help the sanity of the male. China sighed and slowly stroked the man's hair.

"I'm going to make it up to you…" he breathed heavily, upset over the state the Asian next to him was in, slowly he opened the book onto his lap and began to read slowly…treasuring the time they had together, no matter how short it may turn out to be.

* * *

**Пошел вон!****-** Get Out!

**Не делай этого****брата!****Он****приехал сюда****через Германию****он нуждается в помощи****добраться домой****!- **Don't do that brother! he came here through Germany, he needs help getting home!

**Лихтенштейна,****он враг****, и мы должны ****избавиться от него****!****- **Liechtenstein, he is an enemy and we have to get rid of him!

**Что вы знаете****вы просто****глупо****маленькая девочка!****-** What do you know, you're just a silly little girl!

* * *

**Battle Facts**

**Chapter 1 and 2- **

**The battle of Angleterre**

French soldiers advanced on England after two years of Isolation several reports were received by the Russian governments regarding the empty streets and lack of civilisation. One report stated- "The cities are so deserted that even the animals are not returning to the streets. It makes one wonder, the uneasiness the place gives off may be enough to drive the most fearsome beast away."

When they arrived in London, The French forces were overwhelmed due to sneak attacks made by the English army who were described as 'Beastly' in appearance. During the fight, half the army disappeared as during the commotion on the streets of London, troops snuck through the Channel tunnel and infiltrated France. By the time the troops had returned, the English had a strong foothold in France. The English General … was noted for standing on top of the _Palais de l'Élysée _waving the French flag accompanied by three gun shots that signalled the end of the fighting as the English army declared they would not fight an ally.

**Chapter 4-**

**The Spain invasion**

Shortly after the liberation of France, Scottish, Welsh and English Forces were stationed at the borders of the recovering country to help defend it from invasion. The Spanish army under orders to reclaim France advanced on the border guarded by the Scottish troops. The Battle lasted a week as messages were relayed commenting on the strength of the Spanish and re enforcements were requested. However instead of going straight to the battle field, General … took the bold move to transport the small army from Northern Ireland around the coast of France, land on the West Coast of Spain and move inland. By the time word had reached the army they were pinned on both sides. The Scottish General … was noted for telling the Irish General … "five minutes earlier would have been nice" suggesting that the Scottish Army were being pushed to their limits

The decision to join the Neo British Empire was not a favoured one however it was agreed that the treaty became nicknamed- _El__menor de los males_"the lesser of two evils" when compared to The Russian Empire

**Chapter 6-**

**South Italian Independence **

Shortly after the fall of Spain, riots began breaking out in South Italy, at first rioters headed North in an attempt to rally up the Italian people and overthrow the government, however the soldiers stationed in the north forced them back and in an attempt to pass them rioters became more violent, this soon escalated, forces from the north were forced in to disperse the violence. Several small fishing boats and privately owned boats from the East Spanish shore were seen sailing in hearing of the riots offered up their boats to those seeking shelter. At first the residence of South Italy were reluctant to accept help from the Spanish but as more boats approached the land those with fighting experience banded together to support the South Italian and calm the rioting. Shortly after, even though they were riddled with debt from the failed invasion of France the newly appointed Spanish government commended the brave efforts of the Spanish people and declared that if South Italy needed help to rebuild, their nation was on hand to help.

**More facts to come...**


	12. Dueling in the mist

Nightfall and a light mist had descended upon the land, obscuring the low light of the street lamps and blending the dull white perfectly with a pastel orange colour. Pulling up the collar of the coat up to protect as much of his neck as possible, he blew into his hands and attempted to warm them in the colder night, cursing the fact he had not thought to bring gloves with him on his night time adventure. Leaning gently against the wall, he let out a shaky breath slightly visible on the air. The night rolled on as he tugged at his sleeve to reveal the leather strapped wristwatch. The time was just before midnight.

At that moment, a young male sprinted past him, panting furiously. He had been running non-stop from his home, his black uniform hidden beneath a large brown overcoat, not wanting to be noticed as a part of the empire but just a bystander. His chestnut hair's bouncing was slightly dampened by the mist around him, his small curl drooped. He bit his bottom lip, chewing it gently in anticipation at the prospect of this meeting. Digging out his phone, the screen slightly illuminating the mist around him, he checked through his messages to make sure he wasn't called away.

"Veneciano!" A sudden shout dragged him from his adrenaline fuelled panic as he saw his brother running from the south towards him. The two brothers kept running until they literally slammed their bodies into one another, gripping on to one other as if they would turn to dust if they let go.

"Romano! I was so worried about you! I heard about the riots and then I heard Spain took you so I was a little relieved but I am being pressured to move south and take over!"

Romano laughed and pulled his brother into another hug, allowing himself to smile as he leant into the boy "You were worrying about me? I was flipping fucking distressed knowing you were left here…" he sighed.

The North looked at the South with a knowing look in his eyes "I can't go…not yet…"

Unknown to the two, there was a watcher over the reunion scene, grinning as the elder tried desperately to get the younger to leave with him. She knew she had done well following the younger brother here after seeing him leave the home and she had a feeling in her bones she would be rewarded. Tracing her thigh and down to the hem of her dress, she drew it back revealing a long bladed weapon that was unhooked as she brought it to her chest.

"Brother will be so proud" she smirked.

It was a last second glance over Veneciano but it was enough for the older brother to see the flash of light bouncing off the offending weapon as it arched down to slice the brothers. Romano roughly shoved his brother out the way and defended himself against the knife, the blade cutting deep into the back of his arm. He hissed and looked up at the assassin.

The woman over him had long platinum hair tied in a black bow, a dress of the Russian uniform in black, and stockings. She was laughing as she looked at the red stain on the metal.

"You have been a naughty boy comrade Romano…big brother has been wanting to see you" she smirked, slashing the knife in a horizontal arc back and forth trying to cause the Italian to surrender. Romano brought up his arms to cover his chest and face, stumbling backwards and gritting his teeth as his nerves shot pain and ache to his brain. He groaned as new wounds turned his arms red from inflammation and blood. His brother stood shell shocked as he swallowed, she may have been a girl but if he didn't do something soon he was going back to that fucking snow prison.

Watching as she swung back the knife, extending her arm behind her head, he saw a small opening. Dragging his arm back, and fighting through the sting of the wounds hitting the cold moist air, he swung round and connected his fist with her face, sending the Belarusian backwards, overbalancing enough to slam her back into the floor. Her knife went spinning up into the air, the blade tipping towards the floor as it fell freeform towards the ground. The platinum hair lay uneven over the girl's face but it was obvious she was angry. Quickly, she plunged her hand to her other leg and drew her other blade. Romano reached out and snatched the ruby stained blade in mid-fall to the ground just as Belarus attacked him, screaming like a banshee. He managed to parry the blow, blocking the blade she was trying to stab him with, metal clashing against metal, but he was barely hanging on.

"Romano, be careful!" his brother screamed.

~Take Back The World~

The Spaniard snapped upright and blinked, his vision blurred as the effect of last night's drinking caught up with him. He shook his head and looked over the table, littered with glasses and three heads, two his best friends, one a man he would rather kick out but since it was not his house he guessed it was best to suppress this urge. He head pounded as he cursed himself, alcohol and vowed his drinking days were over. Well…at least until the next round of shots was poured. He looked around the dark room and pouted, something seemed off, and was telling him to wake up.

"Romano?" He questioned, slowly getting up, moving as best as his hangover would allow, feeling his way along the wall and the bookcase until he lay a hand on the rail of the stairs.

"Romano?" he asked a little louder. When he got no response again he began to drag himself towards their room. The room was quiet, dark and most importantly, lacking the fiery headed Italian, The feeling in Spain's stomach swelled with worry. Where could his little Roma be? Slowly, he made his way to the bed and sat down, trying to get the neurons in his head to connect through all the booze induced haze in his head. Where could the Italian have gone? Especially at this time of night.

~Take Back The World~

Italy watched in horror as the two locked in battle. What was he supposed to do? His hand slowly traced over the gun on his belt underneath his overcoat. His brother on the other hand was clambering up a pile of bins and boxes in an attempt to escape the insane witch. Both of them were covered in blood, some their own, some the other's, their hair and clothes were stained, messed and getting shorter as they both were getting closer to their target. Eventually, he managed to push her back onto the road away from where she had pinned him and aimed again for her legs, trying to make her knees buckle so they had a chance to escape.

He managed to get some distance from her. Swallowing hard and trying to stay calm, Romano rushed forward. Smiling and with a sadistic glint in her eye, she managed to dodge his knife and delivered a kick to his stomach, sending him reeling back onto his back slightly winded. As his hand hit the ground, the knife went spinning off, leaving the Italian cursing his luck.

"It's ok, Comrade…" she giggled, preparing for her final assault "I'll only cut you up enough to drag you back without complaint."

The younger Italian let out a shout as the psychotic woman began to sprint at his brother, wanting to dive in there and save his family but he was rooted to the spot in fear and terror. Belarus raised her knife above her head and brought it down. Romano suddenly realised something and in one swoop of his hand from his belt halted her movement.

She stopped and went wide eyed, her tongue instantly stopped in the laugh she was mustering for her victory. She blinked and flicked her eyes from one brother to the other. Italy felt his breath hitch and his heart stop a few moments before beating rapidly against his rib cage. He really couldn't take much more of this, he just wanted everything to be ok, to go back to how things were before any thought of war and pain and hurt. He looked to his brother and noticed the male now had a smirk on his face, finally in control of the situation.

Romano took his thumb and slowly pulled back the hammer to prime his pistol, feeling the terrified woman swallow in fear at the barrel pressed against her throat. He smiled at the satisfying click as the hammer was set. His index finger came to lie on the trigger, completely in control of what happens next.

"That's what you get…" he laughed "For messing with a grandson of the great Roman Empire." he licked his lips.

The shot echoed on the still night air, shrouded in a curtain of mist.


	13. sisters depart

**Look who's on an update spree- fairies and families is nearly done too!**

Spain paced back and forth in the living room unsure what to say or think. Where was he? Was he hurt? Was he captured by Russia?

"Mon ami calm yourself before you keel over" France tried to reason with the man as he watched sat on the sofa. Prussia was sat next to him both were concern for their friend who had appeared to have stayed up all night hoping to catch a glimpse of the boy who had slipped through their fingers during their intoxication.

England looked to the trio from where he stood in the open doorway looking out into the large cavern of the underground city. He was only slightly concern after all Romano was a grown up nation and despite his outer appearance of a spoiled immature child, the man was actually very responsible and knew what he was doing. Whatever it was he was doing. He watched as a small market was going on not far from his home and smiled as he heard the banter of the citizens of The Underground.

That was something else he had had no need for in a long time. Money. When they had retreated underground metal became something sort out to help strengthen the towers that supported the ceiling. Although at first it was a strange process of adjustment, eventually people began to rely on skills and started to make things for themselves; slowly the British began to pass items around and eventually a bantering system occurred where everyone began to trade items with one another to get the things they needed. It was a simplistic system but it worked so well when implemented correctly.

"Oy worthless wee brother of mine" The deep voice of the red headed male pierced the happy mindset of the once United Kingdom personification. Green eyes snapped towards the man and burned deep resentment into him, but all it did was probably stoke the burning end of his roll up.

"What!" he snapped ignoring the strange stares the nations inside gave him "this better be bloody important."

The Scot laughed and removing the cigarette from his mouth he stubbed it on the doorway, watching a few embers dance to the ground before flicking the butt at his younger brother.

"Well I just got word from the border of France and Italy… Someone wants to talk to you"

England processed the words slowly in his mind. This didn't sound good in his head at all but something told him he had to carry on. He turned and walked back into the house searching around he shouldered his rifle and looked the other nations in the room. "If you want to come you have five minutes then I leave got it?"

**~Take back the world~**

Sealand fidgeted as he sat in another overly large comfy seating area. That was two in the space of two days? He had to admit he was a little envious; nations were able to live in such nice houses. Maybe now he was a nation he could get a nice house like this too! But then again…where would he put it?

"I brought a little juice" a small voice replied as the blond girl entered the room breaking him from his thoughts "Sorry it took so long I haven't been to my house here in so long that I had to go get some juice" she giggled and placed the tray with the drinks onto the table.

"That's ok" Sealand smiled removing his hat. He may hate the jerk England but the manners he taught him suck thick "So how come I can understand you now? Why are you not speaking Russian?"

She looked at him and sipped her juice "I guess it's because I am breaking away from my brother…My country is completely independent again and has yet to decide its allegiance" she motioned to the boy to drink and he did "but out of politeness I will speak English to help you understand me better" she smiled.

Sealand blushed a little feeling embarrassed about inconveniencing the girl "oh…s-sorry I never did learn how to speak Russian. I only know Swedish, Finnish and English"

"Well I can teach you a little if you want… nothing much just how to say hello goodbye and things" she offered looking around for some paper, memory failing to recall where the supplies were from the length of time since she was last here, dust greeting her vision in every direction her thoughts were invaded a little with worry, she began to consider cleaning the place top to bottom right there and then.

"That…that would be a nice way to spend the time" he smiled at her generosity and the more relaxed atmosphere seemed like a nice change of pace. Nodding in agreement the young miss rose to venture in some way of writing things down.

**~Take back the world~**

England approached the border with caution; something about this still seemed a little off. Why would someone want to request his presence at the border of two empires? He had gone ahead of the party that followed; Spain and France had wanted to tag along but fed up of waiting the Blond had stormed ahead wanting to keep his requester waiting.

The mist lay thick on the border causing him to shudder a little at the unnerving sight.

There he stood, weapon in hand as the cold air hit any skin not cover. He surveyed the surroundings and seeing not a soul called out.

"I know I was requested to come here, if this is a trap I will rain down a fucking hell fire upon the land of Северная Италия! Now show yourself!"

"H-hello?" The small voice floated weakly through the fog "P-please don't hurt me Mr England I just wanted to make sure fratello was taken home"

"Where are you?" He asked wearily, squinting his eyes to try and make out a figure. Slowly the silhouette of a man appear in the mist standing next to what appeared to be a cart, a gloved hand rested on it looking into it nervously.

"I am over here" he smiled weakly and suspicion rising in the man's mind England edged forward until he was with a metre of the Italian. Italy looked worn and tired as France had the first time he had laid eyes upon him, the black of the uniform he wore seemed to drag the Italian down like the chains Russia had inflicted on him. So much pain was reflected in the nation's eyes and the stress gave off the illusion of aging from the bags under the eyes and the paled skin. He twitched every so often and looked incredibly nervous. England looked into the cart could see what appeared to be a body covered over. He swallowed hard wondering if that was who he believed it was and began to study the details of the cover.

"Is…Is that who I think it is?" another voice pierced the air. Both gazes snapped up to see the slowly paling Spaniard who had finally managed to arrive with France. "On… oh god it is isn't it! Oh why, why! This isn't right he has had only torture and pain and we were finally helping him feel safe and now he is gone and he was only half a nation so he might not come back, I won't be able to live without him!" the man wailed

"Spain…" Italy began

"That's not Romano" England ended bluntly. Spain looked up at him confused, eyes glazed with tears. "The figure is all wrong" the blond rolled his eyes, walked over and began to draw back the cover to study the body. Spain meanwhile blinked and looked to the North who nodded and motioned behind himself. Slowly walking around the cart he let out a breath he never realised he was holding.

Romano looked so peaceful as he slept covered in the large brown coat of his brother. The Spaniard removed the coat to check the boy over and hissed seeing the make shifted and dyed red bandaged on his forearms.

"Oh Roma…" he smiled a little in relief and gently picked up the man so not to wake him even though he knew the other could sleep through bombs dropping for heaven's sake.

France on the other hand was wondering who was under the cover and join the Italian and the Brit by the cart nearly throwing up in the process.

Belarus looked no less threatening in death. However now she sported a large hole to the cranium, skin blackened and burned around the edge from the close proximity of the shooting, blood had poured along the forehead upwards as she had fallen backwards with the force of the bullet and ran into her platinum hair blood pooled underneath the head as well suggesting an exit wound. Skin had lost all colours, and the smell that was a mix of blood and gunpowder floated and stuck to the damp air. The combination was nauseating.

"She…she followed me when I came to meet with my brother. Romano shot her through the head…" Italy sniffed " I…I can deal with her but I got worried Roma would be punished and maybe even killed so I told Mr Scotland to come get you! Please take him home!" he shouted.

"Will you not come with us?"

"No" Italy laughed a little "Not until he goes…I can't leave him alone, but I will come I know I will. Please know Mr England I am happy you are helping people get independent, help Germany and I'll come too I promise!"

Before anyone could protest the man turned on his heels and ran into the mist disappearing in the thick white air, shoes clicking on the wet ground as he went. They stood in silence processing the event; it certain was an interesting day.

**~Take back the world~**

What a hangover, she groaned opening her eyes. Head pounded eyes blurring and sick to her stomach. What had happened?

"Sister your awake!" a happy near desperate voice called by her ear causing her to jump. Vision snapped to the side to be greeted by the child.

"N-North?" she asked "what happened? Where are we?"

"On a boat!" the boy declared happiness ringing from his expression and speech.

"On a boat?" she blinked even more confused "weren't we fighting on the French border?"

"W-well" his expression drop "we were…we were but you got shot sis and… and I panicked so I dragged you to the shore hoping to find first aid in the dock then… then!"

The boy burst into tears lying on the girl's chest she winced realising her injury.

"I picked you up" The Welsh voice entered the space and the blond stood in the door chewing on something in a bored manner "patched you up and here we are" he yawned.

"So you are on your way where?" he asked raising a brow. He looked over and the small smile and the dangerous glint in the docile nation's eyes were enough to answer him "oh" she laughed "off to butcher Viking eh?"

He nodded and turned "if you're feeling better by the time we reach shore you are welcome to participate in a bit of bloodshed"

"I might take you up on that" she replied laying back and placing a gentle hand to the younger brother's head in an almost caring matter "I'll want to prove I can't be kept down. Not while Irish blood pumps through my veins"

He laughed and turned to look over his shoulder before leaving "just make sure it stays in your veins next time."

**~take back the world~**

As England entered the house again he was met by another odd sight.

"Sealand? Where the bloody hell have you been!" he cried as the boy sat, legs swinging over the edge of the sofa. He looked over seemingly watching something

"I went off and claimed a country in the name of Sealand!" He declared throwing a hand into the air.

"Claimed a country?" he questioned wandering into the house allowing Spain and France to follow. The Spaniard was preoccupied in getting Romano care though and within seconds was up the stairs and disappeared into his room.

As the Brit turned the corner he heard the slight feminine sounding humming. Sat at the table was a young girl, purple ribbon bouncing gently as she appeared to be sewing onto the French flag content with her work.

"Miss Liechtenstein?" he questioned and she looked up a small smile on her face

"Hello Mr England, Sealand has been telling me about you and the Neo British Empire, and when I got here after I had done my flag I realised that the others were nicely made but the stitching was coming undone" she got up and placed the flag down " I know I should of asked but I thought it would be a nice way of saying thank you for letting me join"

"Well we are always 'appy to have company" France appear taking her hand and kissing it gently "and my flag has never looked better thanks to you"

She giggled and England groaned

"And what does your brother think of this?" he asked.

Her expression fell and she turned to the flags hung up on the wall, her needlework on each of them.

"My brother does not know. And needs no say in my decisions"

The Frenchman looked to the Brit who returned the glance. Today really was an interesting day indeed.


	14. The Empire is crumbling

**Be warned this has alot of grammar errors in it maybe...my beta has already done two fanfic chapters for me today so i just put this straight up. Hopefully i got rid of plot holes but please tell me if some remain i had the buggers. Nothing but ants in stories.**

* * *

The Irish female stared ahead at the Nordic coast of Denmark something was still not right as she reached for the wound on her side. "I thought…I thought I saw his blood on my hands"

"What?" Wales asked as he looked as his sister. She looked up the confusion clear in her face.

"I thought I saw North shot…" she spoke "I held him in my arms"

The Welsh nation looked at her and nodded "that happened to me once, the shock of being shot caused my mind to play out the worst case scenario. You pretend not to but you care about the English worshiping twerp" He laughed and little and she sighed.

"So my worse fear got played out in front of me?" she asked and he nodded as he pulled his gun up and cocked it

"But now isn't the time to talk" he held up the gun on his shoulder "I'm going after Denmark, you head to Sweden, I hear there are actually rebellions occurring and they may need your help"

The small energetic child suddenly appeared at his sister's eyes although this time the energy seemed to be channelled into confidence and focus.

"We can handle this Wales don't you worry about us!"

They both looked at him with surprise as he shouldered his own rifle and ran off to join the soldiers before the fight.

"I think…" the red headed female smiled "he just grew up"

**~Take Back The World~**

The former Hungarian country howled out in pain as the Russian punched out at her. She grasped her face and fell backwards. The Leading Empire was furious it seemed at the recent news that was coming in. He was losing nations as they gained independence. Then the news of death stank out the room. Hands curled around the woman's neck as she cried out her breath cut short as he crushed her windpipe slowly. Belarus may have been a lot of things he despised but to take the life of his family was something he would let go lightly.

Outside the room the nations left drape in black listened to the punishment and felt every strike, every punishment. There was no way around it these days it seemed and bringing him news of any kind was like welcome death like a friend. They all jumped as the door was swung open and smashed into the wall leaving a large imprint. Silence stabbed at them unmercifully as the Russian pass by them looking over them with deranged eyes. He stopped when he came by The Northern Italian.

"My sister fell on your land did she not?" the male went wide eyed and nodded slightly "was it by your hand?" he barked, words becoming more snappy and primitive in tone. Before the other could speak his hands were dragged out and inspected the man even going as far as to sniff them.

"No…it wasn't you…but you know who did…" he muttered

"No I swear I don't!" Italy was visibly shaking and was near passing out at the fangs were revealed in a laughed.

"perhaps you and I should have a small talk over this" his grip on the other tightened as he was dragged away, screaming out for mercy as he fell to his knees unable to walk in his state now.

**~Take back the world~**

England sighed as he collapsed at the table with a Gin. He looked around the room at the amount of allies he had obtained. Slowly his reached into his pocket and pulled out a small parchment. It was a painting of his last empire, small children colonies surrounding him. It had taken him forever to get America to sit still that long. His face fell at the thought. Only the Atlantic Ocean between them…but were they ready to take that step?

He got up and crossed the room. "May I have your attention please?"

The chattering in the room simmered down until it was quiet. The blond cleared his throat and looked over them all.

"I have a proposal… in order to take down Russia as quickly as we have, we used the pure brilliance of the fact he underestimated us and our strengths. But now we need a new strategy and one idiot who'd be willing to make more firepower then necessary"

"Angleterre there is only one idiot who would do that…but that was years ago I doubt he's still got fight left in him"

"Besides do you think you can really convince him?" Spain was less then up for the supporting the idea at this point

"Alone I have no chance…but if I can get to him and convince him we have a chance…but I only will take those wanting to come…I won't endanger anyone"

England was met with nothing with harsh silence as the idea was processed. He was about to give up on the idea when a hand went in the air. He looked over to see the largely bandaged arm.

"Yes?"

"Will this help get my brother safe?" the Italian asked as the other looked to him

"I can't grantee it"

"But it will give us a better chance?" at this England nodded, it was true this would give them a better advantage to be able to take them on both sides. This seemed to appease the other as he sighed. "Then my forces are yours for this suicide mission"

"Roma think about this!" the Spanish nation protested as he held the Italian close

"I have! And right now if it will help Veneciano I'd give my right fucking arm"

Spain sighed "Fine then I'm up for this too, the more people apart of this the greater the success rate right?"

"Ja count me in I've been so bored since I got cooped up here" the Prussian smiled

"Guess this is another family outing" Scotland laughed as he lit another cigarette. England blinked; he couldn't believe the amount of help he was receiving for this. However the French nation did not voice his praise of it

"I think something is a little flawed" he responded "charging America will not result in anything especially on the sea. Our best bet is to go north of him, to a land more accepting. That way we will have a base"

"And what makes you think Canada will be will to help us?"

"He's my little boy I am his papa…call it" he smiled "A family reunion"

**~Take back the world~**

Tears everywhere as cold numb hands gripped at the damp coat. So much moisture within his eyes, that the snow blurred to nothing more than a white mess. Apart from the wavy line that stood darker than the white in his watery vision. The object within his hand slipped from his hands and slumped against the snow. Falling to his knees he tried his best to drag the coat over the figure that he was helping. The hair mattered red against the blond, eyes that remain close as the blood pooled and solidified against them. But the familiar scowl was still in place.

"It's ok Sweden…" he muttered holding him against himself shaking "It's ok we're nearly home…we'll get you help and attention" tears ran down the Finnish man as he tried to keep it together but the snow just felt harder and thicker.

Why didn't he go with him, he should have known Russian spies would have followed him, hissed their tongues back to their master and bring down a blow on the man protecting his child. There was light crunching of snow behind him. A hand on his shoulder and the silhouettes of familiar figures, he looked up and wiped his eyes. "How did you..?"

**~Take back the world~**

When Germany returned that day he made his way through the lonely hallways looking at the destruction that had happened in the time they had been under Russia. He could still practically hear the angered words of his brother from each individual incident.

Sitting down in the leather chair at his desk in the darkness, he needed only the moonlight in this time since it provided tranquillity in times of madness. The amber liquid left the decanter and entered the clear tumbler on the table. He went to press the glass to his lips when he thought he heard something.

"Hello?" he asked into the quiet. When he heard nothing in return he placed the glass to his lips and took a sip. He went to set the glass down but in a flicker of madness he knocked the whole lot of it embracing the slight burn as it all fell down his throat. He looked at the glass and in a spare of madness flung it and listened at the sound of breaking glass as it hit the opposite wall. Why wasn't he stronger? Why couldn't he just be that little bit stronger?

That time he was sure he heard a noise. Rising from his chair he walked out into the hall and listened. He could hear something coming from down the hallway, slow quiet footsteps moved along the wood work listening out for the sound as he continued to hunt down what was in his house. The door creaked as he pushed open the door and was greeted with the dark bedroom. He looked around and found the bed was missing its sheet, a second look and he noticed it sticking out of the wardrobe door. He pressed his ear to the door and listened hearing whimpering from within it.

When the door was pulled open whoever was inside was wrapped tightly in the sheet only a small drooped curl poked through from under the hood created.

"Italia?" he asked reaching forward and seeing the other flinch. In patches the sheets seemed dyed red, Germany reached forward and picked up the shivering boy in his arms and carried him to the bed before holding him close " it's ok…nothing can hurt you here" he muttered. The boy calmed in his arms and seemed to fall asleep; the blond sighed and leant back against the bed thinking everything over. Slowly the boys was laid down and uncovered to reveal the masterpiece of the Russian's arm, words in Russian littered his skin scarring him as a liar and a betrayer.

Slowly his clothes were stripped from him, Germany tried to keep himself together feeling a little embarrassed but he continued his work. A cloth was drawn over the wounds to clean them of the blood and dirt trapped within, and then they were bandaged lightly. With Italy re-clothed and tucked up in the bed the blond sat down on the edge and watched him, the world was falling apart; he refused to let the other feel anymore punishment. He refused to take this hands down anymore, maybe his brother was right, he'd always played the good boy thinking it kept them out of trouble but it didn't, it never did.

**~Take back the world~**

Ukraine laced the bed with flowers crying over the departure of her sister, who knew what would happen to the lands but all she knew was the girl was laying before her. For the sake of her brother she had done her best to make her look presentable. Those who had cared had come to give their respect and even a few nations she had not expected.

The farmer girl also knew nothing of the cruelty they endured. Ever since the day her brother first invited her over and looked her and Belarus away in a luxurious house she had not witness or heard of any treatment to anyone. She wasn't even sure why she was arranging Belarus' funeral at that moment. Just a princess in a tower.

Russia opened his door and walked slowly over; he removed his coat and his gloves and then took his scarf. Gently he laid it over the girl

"I'm giving it to you" he smiled "so you can take a bit of me to the next life with you"

"Russia?" the soft woman asked coming up to him. He looked up at her and burst into tears burying his face in her chest.

"I was careless…" he cried "I was careless in uniting everyone and now my little sister has paid the price, they are all trying to leave me"

Confused but trying to be supportive Ukraine stroked his hair "I am sure you are doing your best brother"

"No…" he muttered "I have been too soft, I need to get my empire back…and if needs be I'll kill them to get it"


	15. Onwards! to the lapping of Waves

**Finally finished my work for Uni until end of Jan so i am going to try and get some updating done...according to the poll i left on my page this was what people wanted update. If you haven't voted go vote on it...I'll leave it a couple of days then update based on the results of it. Please enjoy...**

Feliciano slowly opened his eyes and looked around the room realising he was still at Germany's place and felt a little embarrassed. Sitting up he tried to recall the evening's proceedings but all that came to mind was a blazing inferno of pain across his whole body as the violent eyes, dark with the lust for revenge bore down on him from above, and flashes of metal before red and nothing but red. Looking down at where the hated words should be he found tightly bound material strips, he blinked confused gently touching the bandages before hissing as the pain beneath, there was a small memory that combined his whimpering and tears with the hurried footsteps in a rain dampened street, the realisation of where he had gone and somehow getting inside. He tried to remember more as a light knocking on the door broke his concentration. The door creaked open and in stepped the familiar face, flustered and nervous he walked over and stood by the Italian's side. Italy felt a smile tug at his face as he saw the other come close, he hadn't seen the blond look so human in some time and after the failed meeting with Lovino he needed the scene of a familiar friendly face. The other looked down at him.

"Feliciano, we need to talk"

**~Take Back The World~**

It had been at least fifteen times since he had started assembling and disassembling the handgun in his hand. How was this meant to happen? How was this meant to help? He knew he was worried as much as any father or brother should be but a plan that involved more or less an invasion of what used to be America. That was unheard of, after all things were not like they used to be all those years ago when they first sailed in search of the new world. This could not just go wrong, it could be a complete catastrophe. Everything they worked for could be unbuckled in an instant.

He lay back against the outside of the house looking out over the town and sighing as his eyes spotted a missed piece of the gun, turning it over he set to work on undoing the whole mechanism again. The blond had his hair tied back now to keep it from joining the gun's inner workings.

France had a point he realised, perhaps if they went to what was Canada first they could at least have a foothold but what if they met just as fierce attack as they would on a straight attack to the their target. It was a dilemma, especially with the fact their alliances with the other European countries wasn't that strong. Although it had been improving he had to admit, and certain suspects hadn't destroyed another yet. Finally happy he had in fact proven he knew the weapon enough to make them blindfolded he got up and pocketed it on his belt he noticed another stood nearby.

"Mr Arthur" the little Germanic princess stood there smiling, tray in hand with a teacup rested central.

She was trying so hard to be as independent as she could but you could see she was struggling a little. After all the years she had spent living with her brother even though she completely believed in what she was doing, loneliness was still hanging off her heart. Taking the cup he smiled

"Thank you my dear" he let out a breath, the relaxing liquid fell down his throat. "You know you don't have to"

"It's quite alright" she laughed a little "I enjoy making so many friends and I am not so good at fighting so I do what I can"

England held the cup and thought about the only fight he recalled the other being in before the takeover went in her favour didn't it? But then again how many people can say they came home with more men then when they left.

"It truly is a pleasure to have you staying with us" he assured her as she nodded "the tea is delicious, after all this is over we will have to have a small tea party. Once I get my garden back in order I am sure you will enjoy the roses"

"That sounds wonderful" Liechtenstein agreed happily before looking around "um…I was wonderful if there was any technical work you needed help with"

Arthur stopped and looked at the girl confused at the question "why do you ask?"

"W-well I am not sure if many people know this" she was a little nervous "but I am a bit of a nerd" she laughed a little "so I know my way around a lot of stuff"

The elder smiled and petted the girl's shoulder "I'm sure we can find something"

He was about to leave when a thought struck him "Actually my dear…how are you at making radios?"

**~Take Back The World~**

Welsh and Irish had stepped foot up the colder lands in the Nordic place.

"Well this is interesting" The blond smirked taking a cigarette to his lips as Republic rolled her eyes.

"There was me itching to get a little revenge after my last accident" she groaned shouldering her gun. North was beyond confused as he looked at them.

"What's going on?" he asked looking around half his head wanting to go play in the small layer of snow that had fallen on the ground.

"See that sign?" she asked pointed to a painted sign hanging over the Russian worded one "In Danish is says 'Denmark is king'" she laughed "Sweden can't be happy with that"

"Come on" the welsh man smiled "Let's go see if they are willing to have an alliance"

**~Take Back The World~**

Tino did find it strange. It had been a while since the three others had been in his living room. The Norwegian sipped his tea leant back in his chair, the Dane next to him snoring like no tomorrow.

"S-so…" The Finnish man asked, snowy pup on his lap "you overthrew your governments?"

Iceland tossed away the hand of the sleeping nation that had brushed his leg like it was oozing and shivered. Norway nodded.

"We did it a little while ago…" he mentioned to him "All you have to do is wear the uniform and send regular Russian transmissions and they leave you alone"

"You're whole country pretended to be occupied by Russians?" he asked surprised

"Well some of the Russian officers started families so were more than happy to help keep up the act" the white hair male added "We have had a secret alliance for some time now even the drooling idiot there" he pointed at the axe-man "managed to keep it a secret from everyone"

"How is Berwald at the moment?" Nor asked putting the cup down

"He seems ok now we got his wounds patched up" he sighed "I just hope Peter got away safely"

"Peter? He was here?"

"Sweden found him wandering around when he visited the Baltic area." He mused nodding "We were terrified that he'd be captured to he tried to get him on a boat to England but I don't know what happened apart from he was attacked for helping Sealand"

"You really are great parents you know that?"

"Thanks… that means a lot"

**~Take Back The World~**

The boats lined the docks displaying flags of the nation to captain them. They wore uniforms they had not worn in years and the area was alive with activity.

"So…today we make a trip across the Atlantic Ocean" Francis sighed as he tied back his hair "it's almost Nostalgic don't you agree?" he turned to the Spaniard who was bandaging his hand. The green eyes wearily looked over to his weapon of choice, his trusted friend with gleaming blade. A pistol rested against his hip.

"I don't like to dwell in memories of around that time" he reminded the other and smiled sadly as the memory in question leaked past his defences "But this time is different"

Outside the Albino was more than pumped for this. He grown up fighting and it was always going to provoke a reaction from his, he was itching to show off his skills and he had an extra bounce in his step. As he came in front of the ship flying his flag he noticed a young lady coming down the ramp of it. He blinked before realising it was Lily, he'd never seen her so happy. She wore grey overalls on top of a short sleeved white shirt and black boots and gloves tightly on her hands. Goggles hung around her neck and she was covered in oil.

"Hello Mr Prussia" she smiled "I fixed up the boat…its engine computer was a little wavy"

He laughed, he never imagined her to look so at home looking so out of character. He began to wonder what Vash would think of the Situation. After tinkering with a couple of Radios the young girl had taken it upon herself to work on each ship individually finding the way things go together fascinating. She laughed a little and waving goodbye to the Prussian she made her way back towards the tools and provisions to put the tools away.

The clock in town chimed noon for the first time in years to mark the time of departure. The loud chime bore into each person's soul. The heart began to beat faster and mouths became dry. Slowly the nations appeared and stood before their ship. They turned back to the crowds, each impressive before their ship.

England stepped forward and called out "We now begin a journey that will cause the tide to change. We either return victorious…or not at all"

He looked at his empire they all looked back at him, each holding a weapon of choice in their hand and fear on their faces.

"May the great leaders of the past guide us. We prayer for our victory" he cried and the crowd erupted in cheers. The blond male turned and nodded to the others. They all turned and took their first steps onto metal. Liechtenstein stood with held breath and Sealand was by her side. She put her hands together in prayer as the ships pulled away from port.

"come on" Sealand tugged at her arm "let's get cleaned up and have some food" he was trying to lighten the mood and it seem to succeed as the crowds departed and those who had the nerve to adventure outside began to move through the forgotten streets imagining the day they would live on them once more.

Canada was waiting…as was the future.


	16. Rattled chains give rebirth!

**Omg I updated. Clearly there is a pink moon tonight.**

**Sorry I had a massive however long it was writers block. I hope this chapter helps.**

* * *

The alliance against him was spreading across his empire like mould on cheese, in his hand the silver blade. He needed to cut the bad away and leave behind his perfect empire, a familiar hair bow tied tight around the handle. This was for the good of everyone they just needed a reminder. Slowly he rose up from his seat and paced forward until he was leaning over the chained lump on the floor.

"I am fed up of waiting for you to realise your mistake" he told the man gently laying the knife blade onto his shoulder "I shed you of your title, your clothes, your identity" his foot pushed forward and trod down onto something white that crinkled and snapped in too "everyone around you has submitted and yet you are as stubborn as ever" he took a long breath "I'll take you anyway I can so you understand your place" and with that the blade was picked up and poised ready.

The man still refused to scream.

Greece's eyes snapped opened and his breath laboured. For a moment the room was pitch black unable to make sense of shapes in the night. Sitting up the Greek man came to realise he must have been experiencing quite a nightmare, his limbs shook as his brought his hands to his face and felt sweat there which after a few moments was added with the chill of the damp in his clothing along his back. Something just felt wrong. A feeling in his bones that went far beyond the fact he was in a make shift bed in a make shift dormitory in a house that was far too cold and prison like for his liking.

Slowly he moved out of the bed and onto the cold floor letting out a breath of annoyance at the lack of heating in the snow surrounded place. Where was he meant to go though? What was he meant to do, who to see? He just had to endure a little longer, close his eyes and entertain a nightmare just a little longer. He missed his cats right now…it would be warmer if they were here.

**~Take back The World~**

Italy was sat in the living room with a blanket wrapped around him. Lost a little in a world of his own thoughts, the events of the night with Belarus shook him still. To think he could have died, his brother could have died. At some point Belarus would be reborn again right? Although the lands she represented no longer existed. Not whilst Russia still had them. He felt guilty; it was him who put his brother in danger. Romano may have pulled the trigger but he held some part of the blood.

Where was Romano anyway? Somewhere safe no doubt, one of two brothers being safe was at least something off his mind at least, just needed to get the rest of the world safe and he could sleep better at night.

Germany watched from the doorway and sighed perhaps he should try and comfort the over. But he didn't want to push any boundaries after finally getting the other strong enough to stand up on his own. Beneath the blankets were a bruised and carved body. He had seen the other get scars before, wars and times where trust was tested. But never had he seen a person's body go through so much torture. If they were mortal he would be dead right now.

Taking a slow and steady breath he moved through to the kitchen where he contemplated making something. He reached into the cupboard ahead of him and pulled out a container with a smile, this might just be the best way to get back on their feet after all. A way to a man was his stomach after all right?

**~Take back The World~**

The streak of rebellion was contagious and sparked through people under the thumb of oppression in the land of snow. Affixing a small pink bow to the beret before placing it on his head, a smirk long forgotten stretched across his face.

"Is this really a good idea? If you get caught you know what will happen?" his friend asked as he tied his apron tight and prepared to go on serving as he did, under the radar and away from judging eyes.

The black shoulder cape went on next as he turned and posed for the other "that's the problem with touching fire, you like get burned" he laughed before walking over to the desk and reading over his words once again, finally ok he had done everything correctly he moved and pushed the folded note into the envelope and sealed it "besides all I am doing is visiting an old friend"

"You know Россия will never allow it if you go near Украина, especially after what….what happen to Belarus" the other went quiet.

"Are you ok Польша?" the blond asked looking over, his persona not as flamboyant as it had been in the past but it was slowly bring itself back to the surface "you like have a weird look on your face"

"I'm ok Польша" Lithuania responded biting his lip "but going to tell Украина what is happening may lead to your own personal coffin"

The other looked at him with a bit of a deadpanned expression before the façade broke away and the playful eyes and the cheeky smile shone bright for all to see

"Better make sure it's in pink then ok? And set it on fire! I want the world to remember my final exit"

He was laughing to himself as he trudged through the snow. The look on the other's face when he left the house was more then he could ever hoped for, oh he hadn't done that in so long he was starting to wonder why he hadn't. The smile slipped at the memory of way, fire flared across his back of his winged shaped scar and he shivered.

"Don't get down now, we have like more important things to do" he put his hand over the letter as he made to walk in the direction of the house in the middle of the kingdom of ice.

Ukraine's home was indeed different from anywhere else, a wonderful like house with veranda out over a large front garden, Russia had even gone to great lengths to get the other a heated conservatory so she could continue her farming uninterrupted. No one was allowed near it and in fact a large guarded fence kept anyone from getting near his unsuspecting family. Only Belarus had been able to pass through without incident and Poland was no platinum haired woman.

He swallowed as he crept to a wall nearby and watched over the gates. Right, he was going to storm it like in the good old days. He had no choice and the chaos might get her attention in the house. He took a deep breath and went to run out when something hooked his neck. Turning and preparing to defend himself he came face to face with Greece

"What are you doing on this side?" He asked batting the Greek's hand away.

"I wanted to know that myself" he muttered "This side is where the holding cells are"

"Someone you know being held here?" Poland ask standing up straight but the other didn't respond "Erm…I'm trying to get a letter to Украина…I haven't talked to her in so long I thought it was only fair"

"You want to tell her what's actually going on?" he asked looking past him and at the house and Poland nodded

"But she deserves to know! She thinks her sister died through malicious means and it was in defence!"

"How do you know that?"

"Italy brought her body back and apparently Romano did the deed, they may have problems with Mafia in the past but those two don't start fights but they are brutal if they need to defend themselves!"

Greece listened and then nodded before pulling a young tabby from an inside pocket of his uniform "I found this guy a little while ago, if we put your letter on him, he is more likely to get your note in than you are"

"Ah that's totally great"

"In return you help me get into the cells"

"eh?"

"My cat, you do what I say" he told him bringing the cat to his chest. Poland could not believe what he was hearing but if it meant he could warn his friend of the dangers happening.

"Fine…but if this fails, I am so out of here" Poland handed over the note which was attached to the cat's underbelly before they snuck towards the fence and place the cat in the front garden and watched it disappear around the back of the house seeking entrance from the cold.

He pawed at the warm glass of the large scale conservatory and looked out of place in the cold world outside. He was let in almost immediately and scooped up into the warm arms of the large breasted woman who laughed

"What are you doing out there silly cat" she cuddled him and the cat responded be purring. She smiled and turned to take him inside closing the window "I don't get many visitors so I must be very lucky"

Once inside she placed the cat on the kitchen counter where it shook his fur and the note became dislodged. The paper hitting the side with a gentle noise but enough to catch her attention. She walked over and picked up the envelope a little wet from the snow that had graced the feline's underbelly.

"What's this?" she thought a loud before turning it over. She hesitated a moment before she tore the envelope and released the letter inside.


End file.
